I Think There's One Too Many Digits

I just got an automated voicemail from the pharmacy that said "Your prescription is ready for pickup. It will cost $947.76." Clearly I need my hearing checked because I thought you just said that my prescription would cost more than NINE HUNDRED dollars.

I just came down with bronchitis, and my doctor prescribed an inhaler, which I've never had before, so I thought, well, that must be the culprit. Well, that, and I had changed insurance with my new job in April so I thought they must not have my updated insurance information on file. That part was true. But the $900 prescription was not the inhaler, nor the antibiotics, but the stuff I routinely take for hypothyroidism. Once they input my insurance info, the total for four prescriptions came down to $54.

You might be asking "What in the WORLD is her hypothyroidism medication made of? Magical fairy dust?! Gold??" Nope. It's all natural, actually. But it does make me even more grateful for health insurance. Unless I'm working for an employer that offers medical coverage, the only way I can get health insurance is through My Better Half. Because of pre-existing conditions, I don't qualify for any private health insurance. Trust me. I've tried. Eleven times. And I'm not talking about cancer or something serious. I have pretty standard, chronic medical issues that millions of other folks have, and which are easily managed through medication. I'm lucky to have conditions that are so easily managed, and to have good overall health. And I'm fortunate to have a job that offers health insurance. In my experience, many, if not most, of those toiling in nonprofits in particular don't get benefits with their jobs, and are left to fend for themselves on the "open market," only to find they can't get insured unless they have a spotless record of health. Which is why my blood boils over political debates that question the constitutionality of health care reform. Drives. Me. Crazy. Republicans and Tea Partiers Congress routinely makes it their business to block countless initiatives simply because they are introduced by and sponsored by the other party, and that practice especially drives me nuts with health care reform. Because, yes, let's put the interests of your own party in front of the needs of millions of people. And, no, don't offer any of your own alternatives to the reform to which you are so opposed. Just oppose, letting millions of people continue to flail around in a constantly shifting game of choosing which health concerns they can afford to treat.

A Historian to the Core

So I was thinking about getting a baby book to preserve baby's stuff, and then I realized. No need anymore. All the photos? Digital files. My mom had a baby book for me that had all kinds of photos of me, little memories and dates (like my first smile, first time I crawled). That's all recorded in digital pics & videos. Things have changed a lot in 35 29 years.

But there still is stuff to preserve, it's just that it's three-dimensional stuff. Her baby bracelets from the hospital, her first outfit. So I got an acid-free archival box to safeguard those things against the elements. That's just how nerdy of a museum-geek historian I am.

Unfiltered Thoughts: Food Network's Truck Race

On last night's episode of the Great Food Truck Race, contestants were given no startup funds, and had to hit up local businesses in Denver to get them to front them the cash they'd need to make their food. The way the footage was packaged, it appeared that folks just wandered up to restauranteurs, asked for $500, and the restauranteurs instantly obliged.

So I think I'll pay some kids to follow me around with a camera, wander into local businesses, tell them I'm in a reality tv show competition, ask for $500, and see what happens.

File Under Stuff I'll Never Do

Today we went hiking at Apache Lake in the Tonto National Forest. On the way this morning, I saw two hanggliders off to the right. That sounds fun. Because I want to experience all the fun of a plane crash without any of the protection offered by a plane. 

Recommitting to a New Career

Today was my first day back to work after having a baby. It sucked. It was so unbelievably difficult to leave my little infant at daycare, and reaffirmed to me that I need to figure out a way to work for myself. Since we moved here in 2006, I worked in museums (well, and one private art gallery) for four years, making the best of the local museum scene (which ain't much, by the way) before fully abandoning museum work slash getting laid off last fall. Once I was laid off, I had to scramble to find a paycheck, so I took the first full-time benefits-eligible job I could find because I needed to pay our mortgage and eat and stuff. Y'know, the extravagant things in life. But having never had a baby before, I had no idea what to expect about just how hard it would be to put her in daycare and head back into the office. I'm not saying I would want to be a full-time stay-at-home mom, but I certainly wasn't ready to return to work so quickly, and leaving a helpless little 8 week old at daycare was the most heart-wrenching thing I've ever had to do.

It just reaffirms the stuff I learned a couple years ago with career counseling. I need to figure out a way to work for myself, set my own schedule, define my own projects, and work from home. More than ever.

Visual Mute

Why is there no visual mute? I saw an ad today for a new show about OCD. In the spot, a woman with OCD cannot stop pulling her hair out. The hair that is attached to her head. And they show it, and she’s nearly freaking BALD. HOLY GOD

Unfiltered Thoughts: Baby Swings

Baby loves her baby swing. It soothes her, it lulls her to sleep. But when it comes to getting her out of the swing, I have to stop the swing, then lift her awkwardly out of the swing so as to avoid banging her head on the mobile. Why doesn't someone make an adult-sized baby swing, so that I can get in it with her, it'll still lull her to sleep and then I just get up out of the seat with her still snuggled on my shoulder, a seamless transition to bed.