Dispatch Part Two…

I realized I’m having some very irrational thoughts about how I want to react to some things right now. To say I’ve been ‘screwed’ by people in my life is a bit of a cop-out. Everything that has happened to me is a result of my decisions. Sadly, one of the few people I actually forgive is the guy who robbed me at the pizza parlor many years ago. Anyways, before bringing myself to the reality that what happens to me is actually my own fault, I get the urge to find a way to give people a taste of their own medicine. I’ve written about these people before. Dispatchers. These are the people who are conveniently assigned in roles and positions that afford them way too much power. I will refrain from mentioning names here, but I have many people in my past who have flaunted their delegated authority over me with no regard as to how it affects me.

The particular incident triggering the motivation for tonights post has to do with financial aid personnel at schools. Having the benefit of the GI Bill is great, until you have some ignorant-ass bitch talking to me as if I’m asking to behead her first-born child. I had to dumb the question waay down for her. “When do I get my money?” Her answer was just short of telling me that the process is going to take a round-trip tour around Africa and through the streets of London and filtered through a vat of fry grease at the local Krusty Burger.

I am just waiting for the words to come out of her mouth about how I’m getting a ‘free’ education from the military. Say it, Bitch… I dare you…

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