Tuesday, November 19, 2013
People should instead ask, “Have you STARTED your Christmas Shopping?”
Because the answer to both questions is a resounding “No.” Followed by a not-very-holiday-spirit-like “Duh,” complete with an eye-roll.
I’m really starting to envy religions who don’t subscribe to unabashed consumerism. Atheism is looking pretty good this time of year. Again.
The seasonal change is starting (Starting? Hah!) to kick my ass. I’m tired. I’m sleeping too much. I can’t figure out how the elliptical machine works (fancy way of saying I’ve not used it for a while again). I can count more stars at five pm than should be allowed legally. My concentration is for shit. Typing a complete thought in the form of a sentence that is both coherent and…well. I’m not sure where I was going with that, but whatever.
Every year, twice a year, I listen to people bitch about the Daylight Savings thing, but you know what? Adjusting the time regularly scheduled events are expected to happen (work day starting/ending, things like that) isn’t that big of a hardship, really. We, meaning humans, determine the time, anyway. And when you consider how desperately I need each and every hour of sunlight, adjusting times so that can happen is fine with me. So sorry if you are inconvenienced.
I’m getting sick of defending the Affordable Care Act. Nearly everyone I talk to has something awful to say about it.
You’re losing your current plan. (My husband and daughters are losing theirs, too, but it is an expensive and also shitty plan.)
You are a man and are expected to pay for prenatal/maternity care. (Sack up, boy, women have been helping men foot the bill for erectile dysfunction, prostate examinations and such since… always. Did you hatch just yesterday or do you have absolutely NO women in your life.)
You are young and healthy and don’t need insurance. (Tempt that god, push your luck, announce your hubris, I fucking dare you. You are not 10-foot-tall-and-bullet-proof. Really.)
The fines for not signing up are going to take food from your children’s mouths. (If things are really that bad, go apply for WIC or Medicaid or SNAP or visit the Food Bank or something. Jesus. Your pride should not prevent your kids from eating, for the Love of God.)
With my preexisting conditions and generally shitty health, I’ve not been *allowed* to purchase health insurance for going on four years. Flying by the seat of my pants should not be how I live my life from day to day. And yet, flying by the seat of my pants is kind of my modus operandi: major presentations, packing for week-long trips, cooking. But I’d rather not just “hope for the best” when considering how bloody expensive a trip to the ER can be. It is dangerous to my health. It is dangerous to my family’s well-being, both health-wise and financially. It is also dangerous to my business - and thereby affects my business partner negatively, too.
So if you are angry about the Healthcare Act, I’m sorry. I am. I know how difficult change can be. I do. But the system was broken before and while it isn’t completely fixed now, it is a helluvalot better than it was and with some cooperative clear-eyed, long-range vision and work, it will be great.
I have hope.
I have to have hope. Because luck doesn’t pay hospital bills.
Friday, November 15, 2013
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
When I'm on the road for meetings and various events, homework gets done using text message. Muffy sends a picture of the math book page and we work to finish each problem via distance. When our work and the answer looks the same we go to the next problem.
If only this option had been available when I was in school. I maybe would have learned it then and not have to teach this stuff to myself all over again.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
I'm not sure there are five things in my refrigerator (unless one counts the bottles of salad dressing, jam, jelly, ketchup, mustard, mayo, barbecue sauce, and random tubs of butter).
*Returns from looking at contents of refrigerator and subsequent writing of grocery list, for the love of Pete.
- Roast chicken. It seems there is a roasted chicken in various states of consumption and/or decay in the fridge these days. Ever since we acquired a Traeger grill this past summer, I've probably cooked a chicken on it once a week. Until I broke the grill. Not sure what I did, but I can't get the thing to work. Other people in the household can, so I've chalked up the experience to me just not being very good at "stuff that happens outside" and walked away from it. But I'm still cooking chickens, only now I found my roasting pan and put the oven to work. They don't have the smoky grill flavor, but hey, roasted chicken is roasted chicken. And now that winter is coming, I don't have to go outside and babysit the grill in the cold and dark. Everybody wins. Especially me.
- A bin full of baby carrots, celery, and sugar snap peas makes me think of diets, usually. But lately, raw, fresh vegetables have a summer taste to them. I suppose that is because the weather has turned sharply cold over the past week or so, and I'm mourning the seasonal change.
- Five or six slices of a cinnamon raisin bread I bought on impulse. I put it in the fridge, not because I'm concerned it will go bad before it gets used up, but because animals in this house have yet to learn there is a boundary I must enforce around human food.
- A ziplock bag of bloody meat that I'm guessing came from the deer that was shot late in the afternoon yesterday. I'll call it venison. That's all I have to say about that.
- An expired container of cottage cheese. Hmm.
We all collect our trophies, I guess.
Monday, November 11, 2013
National Lampoon's Animal House, because "fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life." And because...food fight!
Out of Africa, because Denys says things like "I'm with you because I choose to be with you. I don't want to live someone else's idea of how to live. Don't ask me to do that. I don't want to find out one day that I'm at the end of someone else's life." And because...Africa.
The Breakfast Club, because everyone wants to know if "Barry Manilow know[s] you raid his wardrobe." And because...the soundtrack.
For those who served and for those who are serving, remember Veteran's Day. Every day.