Shit Rolls Downhill

There is a certain joy that comes from delegating tasks that you don’t want to do. Today, I’ve managed to delegate two things that I had absolutely no interest in figuring out and I’ve developed an attitude problem that is making me not care a fig about actually taking care of the things I do care about. Hmmppfff…

***

I think I’m getting sick. Either that or I need massive quantities of sleep. I’m hoping for the sleep part. We’ve got sickies in the office though which doesn’t bode well. I really don’t get why they won’t stay at home when they’re spewing germs and look as if their eyeballs are going to self-combust at any moment. Bleee…

***

This morning Miss A and I were watching the news and the little scrolling thing along the bottom reported some interesting news. It involves a former co-worker of hers and acquaintance of mine. She is an educated person, Master's degree if I remember correctly. The news this morning was an amber alert. She is wanted for kidnapping her grandchild.

Concerning as I tend to hold out that my education armors me from sinking into the cesspool of insanity that surrounds me most days.

***

Christmas shopping is on the agenda for tomorrow. I dare not hope I will get it all finished tomorrow. The best I can hope for is to get the kids done.

What's In Your Noggin?

So, I'm constantly amazed at how fallible my memories from childhood are. Earlier today I wrote the following because I was going crazy and needed a bit of help.

When I was a kid, elementary school aged, I read a book. It was about a little girl who emptied her violin case of its violin and packed it with clothes and food and ran away to live in a library in New York City (I think). I really liked that book. Unfortunately, I can't think of the title of the book. I was thinking of buying a copy to gift this Christmas.

Can anyone out there in blobland help me? I think the title had the word "bologna" in it. I read the book in the mid to late 70's so it would have been published around or before that time.

After much searching I finally found the book. It's actually called, From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E. L. Konigsberg.

The fallibility comes in when I read the description and realize it's a little girl and her brother, and they ran away and stayed in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, not the library. And what about that bologna? Well, Frankweiler of course. Frankweiler, frankfurter, hot dogs, bologna, lips and assholes, people, lips and assholes.

Run Away Home

So maybe I overestimated my knitting abilities or maybe it's that I underestimated how difficult making legs for a giraffe would actually be. Whatever it is, the rate of giraffe leg completion is one per 24-hour period. I probably could do two if I didn't have to work, but I still haven't figured out how not to work and still earn money. So this evening I finished the second leg. Two more days to go unless someone books a massage and then the schedule will get pushed to the right.

Oh, and while you're here, maybe you could help me with a mystery. I have this shirt. It's a favorite. It's a mock turtle neck, long sleeves, heather gray in color. It's missing. I've looked everywhere. The only thing I can figure is that it grew some legs over the summer and ran away. Can someone please explain to me how this happens? If you've seen my shirt, can you please send it home? It's terribly missed.

I'm kinda crabby tonight. Miss A has been very quiet since she got home. I had somewhat of a bad day at work. Inept people, you know. I thought I was getting better at tolerating the stupid people. Apparently not.

Anyway, I'm going to bed and hoping that I feel better tomorrow.

Committed, Or Maybe That’s Where I Should Be

Okay, people have got to stop sending me pictures of puppies. It’s unwitting. They don’t mean it, it just happens to be the “thing” right now, I guess. Unfortunately, my hormones are crazy and I can’t handle it. Yesterday, I was walking through a store on my lunch break and I looked over at a Christmas gift bag. It had a picture of two sleeping puppies on it with a candy cane lying next to them and I burst into tears. Sigh…

I miss my dog. I miss my grandmother. I miss my family or at least the fantasy land that I’d constructed that was my family. I’m having abandonment issues.

Happier news, I have somehow backed myself into a corner and even though I promised myself there would be no crafty crap this Christmas I’ve somehow managed to assign myself two knitting projects for the nieces. Sigh…

It’s going well. I’m doing a stuffed giraffe for one. I have the four end caps for the legs done. Tonight I’ll start on the legs. Maybe I can get those done tonight? Maybe.

The hat for another niece isn’t even started. I don’t know if I have yarn for it either as I cleaned out my stash when we had that yard sale with Miss A’s mom a few months ago. I’m counting on a two-day turnaround for that piece. It’s simple, just takes time.

I’ll be crazy before they’re done. Mark my words. This is why I said I wasn’t going to do it. I know myself too well. Now if I could just figure out how to stop myself. I’m enjoying the knitting at least.

The massage stuff has slowed down a little. I ran my numbers for November and it was my biggest month yet even though we had the holiday in there. No wonder I was pooped.

I’m looking forward to lunch, people. I’m having a bit of an issue with my blood sugar this morning as I opted out of the egg and into the hot grain cereal (I can’t think what it’s called, but I love it!) and that was a mistake. It really sucks to be so sensitive.

Of course the lightheadedness could be from the tights I’m wearing. I put them on under my dress pants because I almost froze to death in the office yesterday. I think they still have the A/C on. Anyway, the tights are a little snug and I’m pretty sure they were designed for someone with no booty. Every time I stand up, I get a pelvic rotation thing going on as they pull my butt down. I bought them a couple of years ago because I thought they looked cool and I’ve never had them on. Not sure how long they will last being put through this kind of torture.

I guess that’s about it for now. Miss A is teaching tonight. I’ll be eating leftover chicken wangs and cornbread dressing while watching Heroes and anything else I can find on the DVR that she doesn’t like. Sounds like a gastronomical disaster waiting to happen, doesn’t it? Otherwise, I’ll be knitting my fingers to the bone trying to get this giraffe some legs built. Might should go buy some stuffing stuff for it. Hmm…

Put This In Your Horn and Honk It

Don't you love it when you're driving along minding your own business, stopping at the stop sign, taking your turn, and then getting honked at by the guy who decides to run his stop sign? Gee, sorry... I didn't realize you were going to run the sign and I would then be in your way. Trust me, I would have stopped for you if you'd only given me some indication that you were going to BREAK THE LAW. Dipshit...

Anyway, today has been a somewhat challenging day. I spent a great deal of time on the telephone with my insurance company, my secondary mental health insurance company, and my mental health provider. They've had my billing situation screwed up since July.

I decided to take the bull by the horns today and compel them all to figure out what the problem is. So after numerous phone calls me to them, them to me, them to each other, I think they finally got it all figured out.

Looks like I'm going to owe somewhere between $270 and $600 for the four appointments that my insurance isn't covering. This came as a shock as I have mental health coverage from two separate policies provided through my company.

The problem, it seems, comes in when I decided to see the therapist that the secondary, specialty mental health insurance advisors booked me with a year ago. She's a licensed master's level counselor. She is not a psychiatrist. Apparently my Blue Cr*ss policy doesn't cover any kind of mental health services unless they're provided by a psychiatrist.

Well, gee, don't you people talk to each other? No... apparently not. Thus I'm left holding the bag for four hours of services and being told they won't cover unless I change therapists. Grrr... not happy.

It could be all bad news, but I did a little complaining to our HR representative because I really thought he needed to know how poor our coverage actually was. I did some suggesting about how we could make it better and lickety split he was in my office with a paper explaining how it was going to change because someone in the government made a law that insurance companies had to stop discriminating against mental health coverage and make it similar to regular old health / surgical coverage.

We're not sure exactly how Blue Cr*ss is going to try to screw us out of the required coverage, but it can't get any worse than it is now. If you want to read more about this, gooble "The Paul Wellstone and Pete Domenici Mental Health and Addiction Equity Act of 2008" or click here to open the APA's summary statement on the Act.

So Miss A and I have talked about this and how it affects us financially. My new policy won't kick in until July 1st. So no matter what I've got six months to get through.

January 1st I should have the opportunity to read the new Blue Cr*ss policy. My HR guy asked today if I would read the new policy with a focus on the mental health benefits to see if it's reasonable. Of course I said yes.

So we're going to wait until after the first of the year before I do anything drastic like start looking for another therapist. I really don't want to do that and if it turns out that Blue Cr*ss grows a conscience and does the right thing I'll swallow the six months and smile. I won't like it, but I'll take it.