It's Not Paranoia if They're Out to Get You

So I decided to apply for disability (SDI) during my 6 weeks off work after my c-section. I have been self-employed in private practice for almost a year (since leaving the counseling center last June). Despite having paid into State Disability Insurance for 20 years before that, my claim was denied. Here's why:

"You had withdrawn from the labor market prior to the date you became disabled because you were self-employed for profit. Therefore, you are not suffering a loss of wages due to your disability but instead a loss of profits."

OK, first of all: Profits? Where? Where?? I made about $18G last year. I pay almost half a mortgage on a house in the SF Bay Area, and half the utilities. You do the math.

Second: Why is it wages when a CFO signs my paycheck, but it's profit when the client pays me directly? As far as I can tell, my mortgage and utility bill still gets paid from the money collected.

Now, if they'd said, "Hey, chickadee, you're not paying into SDI right now, so you're out of luck," I would've said, "grrr, OK." I mean, you stop making payments on your health insurance and you're not covered, no matter how much you've already paid. (enter duck quacking: Af-lack, Af-lack). But this whole wages vs. profits thing is ridiculous. Since I'm not bringing in any wages, can I apply for welfare?

I'd always heard that it was hard to be a small business owner, and I assumed that was because of the work. I didn't realize it was because the government makes it very hard to make a living on your own.

OK, enough grousing. Here's the PSA for today: If you are sharing a bed with a baby and you feel a warm wet spot, chances are excellent that it is, indeed, a warm wet spot.

I was napping next to Ben, and I'm used to wetness up near my head (baby throw-up) and on my chest (mommy-leakage), but I'd never felt it near my belly before. I thought maybe it was just the warmth of being next to him, but no, it was sort of spreading and getting warmer, like a warm, wet spot.

The diaper that G. had carefully put on him before the nap had come loose. Hence, the PSA of the day.