Especially when there's $1250.00 riding on making a morally ambiguous - okay, wrong - choice.
Our neighbourhood wasn't evacuated. We were close to the flooding but our building never even lost power. Our basement didn't get damp. If it hadn't been for the news I might not have even known there was a flood going on.
There is flood relief money -$1250.00 per adult - available for people who were evacuated and left their home for seven days. This obviously doesn't apply to us. Or to our next door neighbours, who didn't leave either (though it would have been nice if they had, and taken their disgusting chain smoking habits with them...but that's another story). But guess who went and claimed disaster relief money?
That's right. Our neighbours. They filled out a form claiming they'd left their home and had been gone for a week. They lied through their nicotine stained teeth and then told us about it while unloading their ill-gotten goods (groceries, clothes, and alcohol) from their taxi cab.
Frick.
We were tempted. I can't lie about that. S. and I aren't rich and we're paying for a wedding in the fall as well as paying off a car and two student loans. We could totally have used two and a half thousand dollars. And god, it was tempting. So fucking tempting!
But I couldn't. I just couldn't. How would I look Sam Vimes in the face knowing I'd basically stolen money because the people giving it out weren't checking eligibility requirements strictly enough?
(And yes, the fictional character Sam Vimes was my moral compass for this decision.)
My soul feels better for making the choice I did.
But damn, I'm glad I don't have to make choices like that every day. My wrestling muscles just aren't in good enough shape.
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