Help! I’m still just a teensy bit short ($150) of having enough money to bridge the gap and pay my health insurance until my first Social Security check. (10 more days!) If you can help, I’d appreciate it.
One of my friends went on a date last night.
“How was it?” I said.
She had some nitpicky things to say before she got to the good part. “He told me his wife died, and I said I was sorry. Then I asked when she died. Guess how long?”
“Two weeks?” I said.
“Close. Three months. His wife was an alcoholic who drank herself to death. He started talking about when she was dying, how she was projectile-vomiting blood ‘and it was coming out her bottom, too.’ ”
I couldn’t stop laughing. “Sounds charming,” I said. “So you’re saying it wasn’t a match made in heaven.”
John Amato, my boss at C&L, got me an electric fly swatter. I am forever in his debt.
It makes that really satisfying “zap!” noise when you get one. I wonder if it works on mice?
Thanks to your kind generosity, I am caught up on almost everything until my Social Security check comes in — but not my internet ($252), my Obamacare payment, and not much left for food. (I’ll miss the internet payment by THREE DAYS, and since I’m already behind, I’ll get cut off.)
So if you have anything left to spare, please throw me a few bucks. Once I get that check, I’m good. This is an embarrassing cash flow shortage.
Thanks to everyone who’s donated so far. As I said, I haven’t found full-time work, or even enough freelance work. (I have a part-time gig at C&L for now.) And I’ve gone through almost every dollar I saved from last year, which was supposed to pay my taxes. I’ll worry about that later.
I met with Social Security today and I won’t see a check for about two months. In the meantime: Help! Help! I’m really worried! Not for the long run, but until I get that first check.
So please donate whatever you can to tide me over. I’d really appreciate it.
That a simple piriformis muscle could be such a literal pain in the ass? I’m in agony.
That’s why I laugh when people act like workers who do manual labor are the only ones with broken bodies. If you saw the kind of armor I have to put on just to get through another day of blogging, you wouldn’t believe it. (Right now, I’m wearing a cervical collar and elastic gloves.)
And I’m not the only one. Plus, so many of my blogger friends have autoimmune diseases that they didn’t have when they took on this stressful way of life.
I hope you woke up more gently than I did.
Around 4 a.m., the hardwired smoke alarm went off for no apparent reason. The last time this happened, my landlord couldn’t be reached for several hours (Christmas holidays) and I tried desperately to figure out how to shut it off. As a result, I suffered permanent hearing damage. (PRO TIP: Had I known at the time, I would have asked my doctor for steroids, which would have prevented that.)
Anyway, I texted him and asked him to come over and shut it off — but he’s in Portugal, of all places, and won’t be back until tomorrow. He told me to go into the building basement and shut off the breaker.
It only took me an hour before it was stopped.
And of course now I have too much adrenaline in my system to go back to sleep. :<
I had to get some medical tests yesterday, which took a couple of hours. But the nurses were very smart and interesting, and they were all paying close attention to the healthcare vote.
One of them said, “I just don’t understand how people can have so little empathy.” I told her as a rule, conservatives don’t usually care about something until it affects someone they love.
Another was upset that the Dems “did nothing” to stop it. “What were they going to do?” I said. “The Republicans have a large majority in the House. Besides, they’re going to wrap this around their necks in 2018 and then we can kick them to the curb.” She looked doubtful.
“No, really. They’re counting on the Senate to save them from it actually going into effect.”
Anyway, considering I was getting a bunch of tests, it was a surprisingly pleasant day.
“I hope you don’t have to come back, because I don’t want you to have something wrong, but I hope you come back again so we can talk more about politics,” another nurse said.
See? Not everyone is crazy.
You know who you are!
And I mentioned all the crazy food sensitivities. I told her it all started after I got my gall bladder out, and asked if there was any connection.
She laughed. “Oh yes, there’s a well-known connection,” she said. “You no longer have the same emulsifiers that help digest food.”
Despite my many, many questions about this in the past few years, this is the first time a doctor has shared this information. Uninformed — or doesn’t give a shit?
So that’s good news. My immune system isn’t going crazy; I’m not digesting properly. That’s a problem I can probably work with.