I’m speechless.

I don’t think I’ll ever wear them again; I just want to keep them sealed in plastic as testament that dreams can eventually come true. If nothing else though, this was a very drawn out lesson to learn – never, ever buy “dry clean only” clothing ever again. If I had known the cleaning process would take almost two years, I would have just walked on by.

I did in fact go to the government yesterday. I don’t quite know what I was expecting – outrage, disbelief, angry villagers with flaming pitchforks – but instead I got paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork. It seems I have to fill out a form and send it to the Space Station, at which point they have 15 days to respond. If they don’t, I submit a complaint to the government, and eventually someone will look at my case and decide my fate. If the Space Station opts not to play nice and cough up what they apparently owe me, the process will take months. While I was asking my many questions, people were calling in about their own case files and I learned that they are just now starting to process the July claims. It is in my best interest for the Space Station not to force the government’s hand in this, but that would involve their acknowledging their mistake all along – I am not expecting this to be over and done with any time soon. I really need to find a new job. Again. Maybe I should give up trying to fit into Corporate Canada and just go work at McDonald’s again. I still have my original time card, and I think there’s a visor around here somewhere.

I have numbers to calculate, forms to fill out, envelopes to mail, and a remembrance dinner to cook. Unfortunately, all I want to do is crawl back into bed with a cat or three and be sad and defeated. It doesn’t help that I was unable to find mincemeat tarts last night, so my Dinner for Dad will be incomplete. Today is the second Deathiversary, and I am keeping up the tradition of cooking all of dad’s favourites for dinner to honour his memory. It’s mostly tasty busy work, but it does help.

I miss you, dad.