Application for a mop

Have you ever heard the phrase "when it rains it pours"? WELL this is what they were talking about.

So the other day, I woke up to the news that my house is going for Sheriff's auction in June, so I need to figure out how to be GONE by then. Awesome. The lawyer bought us until the first week of June.. and that's about all he's done. Lovely.

So I had a day and a half straight of listening to my parents kvetch. My mom is trying to figure out why nobody has gotten off their ass long enough to hire either of us long enough to pay for this move, and my father has regressed into re-denial about their divorce.

He spent several hours boasting about the leftover garbage he found at garage sales while pausing every few minutes to tell me how "I had better" get rid of everything I own, because my owning more than a handful of clothes and a bed is somehow a burden on him. This is the same clown who does not live with me AT ALL, yet has an apartment under my living area, where he lives alone as a hoarder. Go figure.

His batshit girlfriend Maryse also took time out of her busy day to phone him and tell him what a horrible human being I must be, because I don't go Smurf shopping with her. I am not kidding. She said (and I quote) that "Smurfs are a part of my soul, because they understand French children, so I must become one with them." She just spent $100 on the long recalled Smurfs cereal. The one from the 80's that pretty much made kids poop a Smurf. I shouldn't be surprised, since this is the same psycho I've blogged about before who spent $500 to bring a stray Hitler cat from Japan to America. She also performs "spells" and is still allowed around small children as a teacher.

By the way, Charles was spotted a month ago on the side of the highway, still very sick, but ran before he could be captured. This cat has legit died more times than those 9 lives allot.

Yesterday I was in a rotten mood. I couldn't handle anybody's bullshit when I couldn't even handle my own life. Surely, it can't get any-

*CRACK BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM*

Ah. Shame on me for even thinking that sentence.

Now, I live pretty close to the Calumet River. In fact I have to walk over it to get groceries. A little background here.

Before I moved to this lovely suburb in Hell, the city had decided to drill into the cement and add drains and dips all over the surrounding area. Why? "To defer flood waters" was the shameless excuse everyone was given.

Now before the drains were put in, the waters from the "Lil Cal" would wash through the streets, causing a lovely annoyance to people, but would subside on their own.

Now? Well thanks to the pipes, drains and dips all over my town and the town next to it, all that lovely, sewage filled water now backs up into my house, my neighbors' houses, and makes for a stinky swimming pool right by the shopping center. In fact, here's a shot of my local shopping center, courtesy of NBC 5:

Now after this was taken in 2008, and they started evacuating people by boat from the clinic (upper left corner) it took until last week to finish repairing all of the damages. Renovations on the Taco Bell (center) just wrapped up last week.

Guess what happened overnight?

Well it hasn't gotten this bad YET, but as my neighbor from across the street was bailing out his "downstairs lab" (Dear Jebus I can't move fast enough) he suggested calling the Calumet Trustee's office for aid.

So my mother did just that. This is what happened:

Mama: Ah hello? Is this the Calumet Trustee office for disaster relief?
Lady: What's your issue, honey?
Mama: Well my basement's flooded and my neighbors are trying to bail out their homes. The Little Calumet is still rising, and after the rains everyone is flooding. What sort of disaster relief funds may I apply for?
Lady: *Sucks in air* Ooooh yeah um... I dunnoooooooooooooooo what you mean by disaster fundage or anything. But we don't do that. Our aid is not monitary, m'kay?
Mama: Ah... I beg your pardon? I do not think I understand.
Lady: Well do you live in MUNSTER?? (She says with venom in her voice)
Mama: No.
Lady: Ah okay that's fine then.
Mama: See what happened was-
Lady: AREYOUSUREYOUDONTLIVEINMUNSTER??
Mama: Yes yes! I don't live in Munster.
Lady: Ah good... good.......................................

Mama: So as I was saying-

Lady: ARYSHUREYUDINTLIFINMINSTR!!

Mama: For the last time I don't live in Munster, okay??
Lady: Well GOOD then.
Mama: Anyway, we're all flooding right now, what kind of emergency aid are my neighbors and I entitled to?

Lady: Well we don't exactly have any financial aaaaaaaid.
Mama: Um...
Lady: See what we can do is we can send each of you a form. You fill out the form and send it back to us, and if we approve you... we will send you a free mop and bucket.
Mama:.... I'm sorry say that again?
Lady: Now that's only IF you get approved. We have a process here. But → IF ← you are approved, we will send you a free mop and bucket.

When my mother recounted this story earlier today, my brother screamed "IT'S NOT POT, IT'S A FUCKING BUCKET!!" Alluding to the fact that it's actually quicker to obtain pot in the state of Indiana than it is to obtain a "free" mop and bucket.

And this isn't even a fancy mop and bucket either. This is one of those cheap, plastic $4 sets you find in every old person's home. It's not even a Swiffer.

Of the many types of Government aids out there, I never thought that they had such a strenuous process for a mop and bucket.

Dare I ask what would disqualify me from the process of gaining this mop and bucket?