We have discussed this matter before, but recent exchanges between our forces indicate that you need a refresher. If you are outdoors, where you existed long before humans did, and if you do not pester me greatly, peace will be maintained. I will even aid in your survival. Just the other day, for example, I saved an earthworm from certain burning death on a hot asphalt road. But my generosity only goes so far. If you appear before me indoors, which is my territory, or worse yet, land on me, which is in direct violation of the Three Feet of Personal Space Rule set at the Midwesterner Pact, you have committed a grave tactical error that will end in your demise!
And now I'm totally paranoid about more spiders landing on my arms. Augh! It wouldn't be so bad if they didn't feel so weird!
It occurred to me this afternoon that the last time I saw anyone in a medical setting was at the end of 2004, when some poor surgeon had to drill deep in order to remove all four wisdom teeth. I have been riding on my youth in the meantime, and I realize that I have been extremely lucky in that regard, especially considering my rather poor dietary habits and copious amount of self-induced stress. I am not confident that my winning streak will continue, but I do not dare think of it. There will be no care unless it's absolutely essential, in which case I will be forced to turn to my parents (or they will force me to turn to them). I want to be independent and able to take care of all my needs, so I find the thought of being sick as a dog and asking my family to pay money to be equally frightening and repulsive.
I feel a strong connection with people who do not have insurance, and thus must make difficult decisions about painfully expensive medical care. I once applied for the state insurance, but was turned down on grounds of not being severely disabled or broke (though at that time I had a grand income of $000.00). I felt desperate, to be sure, but deep in my heart, I was okay with it. I would rather it go to people whose bodies are falling apart more than mine, who have a great need. My cramps may be killer, but I would rather see inexpensive birth control distributed to low-income women who already have children and are in dire need of family planning. My hearing aid needs to be maintained as any mechanical device does, but as long as it still works, I will continue to push the envelope. I accept that there are limited funds in this world ... but I do so hate having to rely on my old doctor's generosity in order to obtain medication.
I keep clinging to the hope that Cave Inc. will pick up the pace on negotiations and hire me, but I am worried that I may have to serve an additional three month trial period once they do. It'll be October or later at this rate! I am growing increasingly anxious and impatient. Do they not understand that my need for medical care is inevitable as the chance of acute illness is always present? What if my teeth fall out? What if I become so seriously ill, I lose what ground I have gained? What if, what if, what if? I must not think of it.
I need a hug.
Their form letters sound almost personal, except for one tell-tale clue ... they refer to me as "Anne Elizabet."
This will not do. Chin up! Take your pen in hand, and write as you have never written a cover letter before!