The bummer train entered the station with a bang yesterday afternoon when I met with the ophthalmologist and he touted the amazement of my progress and clear assurance that my vision would continue to improve. I had intended to give one last ditch effort to get him to sign off on my disability, but, not one to disavow his ability, he remarked that state disability requires the damage to be to both eyes. And I just spoke with the insurance lady, and even if I were to pursue the application, the threshold is whether or not you can perform the job at at least 50%.

How people manage to scam the government when it comes to this stuff, I'd like to know.

So my dreams of early, comfy retirement have been rather dashed, though I've had a lovely year-long plus vaycay. There are things I am not looking forward to about returning to work, like, ya know, the work itself. But we have several new people, including a new manager. And the one pill of a girl who I had the burden of supervising has been let go. Plus I'm going back renewed and slimmer, and with a different perspective on the job. Specifically, the "that's not my job" approach; that is, I'm not volunteering for shit that isn't immediately within scope for my role.

I'm trying to keep my chin up about the whole thing, but I'd so gotten my hopes up about being on permanent vacation, so permit me my pissiness as I finish out this last month or so of perma-free time. *sigh*