The Bills Don't Take Veterans Day Off
Today is Veterans Day.
A day for remembering those who served. A day for appreciation, recognition, ceremonies, flags, and thank-you messages.
And tomorrow?
Tomorrow the bills arrive.
Right on time.
Apparently, the electric company didn't get the memo that it's a federal holiday. Neither did the phone company, the landlord, or the rest of the financial vultures circling my mailbox.
They don't care that you lost your job. They don't care that you're looking for another one. They don't care that you've spent days submitting applications, answering questions, traveling to interviews, and trying to convince somebody that you're worth hiring.
The bills don't take holidays.
I've lost a job. I've lost games. I've lost time. I've watched opportunities disappear, watched money shrink, and watched the calendar keep moving whether I was ready or not.
But somehow, the bills always find their way home.
They arrive like clockwork, just to get torn open and remind me of everything I still owe.
And then there's the rest of it.
The unsolicited messages. The random phone calls. The people who claim they found you somewhere and want to offer you something. Recruiters who appear out of nowhere. Companies that want your time before they can even tell you what the job pays.
I don't ask strangers to hire me out of pity. I don't ask them to find me. I don't ask them to become my friends.
I want honest work, honest pay, and a little room to breathe.
That's it.
I don't need another person pretending to care while trying to sell me something. I don't need a motivational speech about perseverance when I'm already doing everything I can to keep moving.
And I certainly don't need someone telling me how appreciated veterans are while ignoring the struggles that continue long after military service.
Today I went looking for Veterans Day meals.
Two different Denny's for two Grand Slams. Texas Roadhouse for a meal voucher. Chili's for a burger and fries. Buffalo Wild Wings GO, where I waited an unnecessarily long time, asked whether they needed a cashier, and ended up spending a little money to get some food.
I brought some of it home to share.
It was appreciated. I'm not going to pretend otherwise.
But free food doesn't fix unemployment.
A free sandwich doesn't pay rent. A discount doesn't cover a phone bill. A complimentary meal doesn't make depression and anxiety disappear.
Chick-fil-A gave away chicken sandwiches. Raising Cane's offered 10% off.
Yay?
I'm grateful for a meal, but I'd rather have a paycheck. Revolutionary concept, I know. Somebody alert the Department of Obvious Solutions.
And this isn't just about veterans.
Walk down almost any street and you'll see someone asking for help. People are struggling everywhere. Some are working. Some are unemployed. Some are veterans. Some never wore a uniform.
Different circumstances. Different stories. Too many people spending their days wondering how they're going to make ends meet.
Maybe we should spend less time congratulating ourselves for remembering people one day a year and more time figuring out how to help them live the other 364.
Affordable housing. Reliable employment. Accessible mental health care. Food assistance without humiliation. Transportation that doesn't consume an entire paycheck. Veteran services that help people build independent lives instead of simply surviving another month.
Not charity as a publicity stunt.
Not another slogan.
Not a photo opportunity with a flag in the background.
Actual support.
I served my country. That experience is part of my life, but it doesn't exempt me from hardship. It doesn't mean I'm immune to unemployment, financial pressure, depression, or anxiety.
And I shouldn't have to pretend I'm doing wonderfully just because somebody gave me a free meal.
I'm still here. Still looking. Still trying.
Tomorrow I'll get on the bus again. I'll go to another interview. I'll keep searching for work and trying to put a little money aside.
Not because somebody told me to be grateful.
Because I want a life where I'm not calculating every dollar, every meal, and every trip just to make it through another week.
I don't think that's asking too much.
Maybe the real question for Veterans Day isn't whether we remembered those who served.
Maybe it's whether we're willing to help them—and everyone else who's struggling—when the flags come down.
Because the bills don't take Veterans Day off.
And neither does poverty.
Jerry's Marginalia
A complimentary sandwich is nice. A functioning support system would be nicer.
You can put a ribbon on a problem, organize a ceremony, issue a press release, and thank somebody for their service until your vocal cords file for workers' compensation.
But if that person goes home wondering how to pay rent, buy groceries, or get to work tomorrow, perhaps the celebration needs a second act.
And for the love of all things bureaucratically questionable, stop confusing recognition with assistance.
One makes a nice photograph.
The other makes a difference.
The Department of Petty Affairs has reviewed the matter. The bills have been found guilty of showing up on time while the support system remains mysteriously absent.
No further comment.
Actually, one more:
I DON'T BARK; I BILL.
Jerry “The Ankle-Biter” Silverhand
https://theglitch.bearblog.dev/
Department of Petty Affairs — Where the bullshit gets audited before it gets published.