Karmically, the rate things are going, I must have been a toad in another life.
There’s a great line in the film Body Heat when William Hurt’s character says, “There’s so much shit comin down, I need to wear a hat.”
Excuse me while I go bonnet shopping.
I have had to strategize to keep myself from going nuts, like not checking my mail till the next morning for fear something will flip me out to the point I can’t sleep. Another medical bill for instance that now comes with a fresh threat. They’ve already gotten 5 thousand dollars from the insurance company, but are determined to get the rest out of me. It’s a shake-down alright and one my wallet can’t participate in. What are the choices…not pay which destroys your credit you’ve spent your whole life keeping pristine. You can go on the eternal payment plan paying twenty bucks monthly like a college loan minus the degree. I already have one of those from my hearing escapades two years ago when at 3 in the morning had to go to the ER for medicine. Three pills and ten minutes with a doctor later, I owed three grand. Larceny in a lab coat. I did get a pair of socks that at those prices should have been cashmere, boxed and once owned by Elizabeth Taylor.
Then we have work. Seems once I hit 60 I’m right up there with bell-bottoms and cloth diapers. It doesn’t matter I still clean up pretty well. These underpaid twenty year-olds running the show have mothers younger than me worried I’ll die during the job. If it wasn’t so financially crushing, it would be funny.
Toss in the space in my life where friends used to be – those defectors who can’t handle a woman with hearing loss. The various rejection notices, when you’re lucky enough to get one, saying they don’t want your writing and the threat still hanging over you about losing your home.
The loss of Carmela trumping all of the above.
It’s amazing I don’t have a substance problem.
Something tells me that bonnet won’t do. Maybe a sombrero is more in order. – in an extra, extra large.