August 2009

Every now and then a series of events occur together in ways that make me think there is some astrological influence or weird mélange of influence creating funky patterns.  For me, I am having difficulty with sharp objects at the moment.  On Friday night, I cut one finger and gouged another while picking up some pieces of broken glass.  On Saturday morning, I sliced yet another finger while cutting grapes into bunches with  kitchen shears.  This morning, I sliced a knuckle with a paper cut.  That’s three – I should be done now, right?


Last week I had to chastise someone in another office of the organization in which I work for doing something stupid.  Because this person has had a habit of doing similar stupid things, after discussion with my supervisor, I delivered the chastisement by email, copying my supervisor and the supervisor of Mr. Stupid.

 Mr. Stupid responded later by hitting reply all with a, surprise, stupid attempt to make his stupidity look like inadvertent error.  Because I’d had a long day and got his pathetic fail of an excuse after dealing with the stupidity of others in his office, I shot back an email, also reply all, in which I pointed out that there was no way that the error could have been inadvertent.

 Today, Mr. Stupid called, presumably on the advice of his supervisor, to make nice and apologize.  He began his apology by half-blaming his support staff, and in response to my snarky, “Oh really?” backed off and said he “took full responsibility and it wouldn’t happen again.” I said, “Good, glad to hear it.”

 He then says, “Okay, kid?”

 I was so taken aback by this newest form of stupidity – kid? I’m a fucking adult you moron – that all I could say was, “Uh, okaaaaay.”

 Thus ended the call.

 ‘Legal’ tip of the day:  When apologizing to other people, try to avoid (a) blaming others for something that is clearly your responsibility; and (b) attempting to diminish the listener/apologee by using terms intended to indicate their inferiority, whether based on relative youth or other factors.

 Needless to say, Mr. Stupid is still on my shit list.   I have no idea how old he is, but I’m guessing he thinks I’m some young whippersnapper.

Overheard on the street yesterday, as I passed two guys on the sidewalk:

“Some people don’t even have the intelligence of rocks.”

It was a beautiful summer day today in SouthCentralSmallCity – low 80s, no humidity, blue skies – so I went to my favorite coffee shop and sat outside reading a book for lunch.  Towards the end of the hour, as I sat reading quietly, I was rudely interrupted.

            “Excuse me,” I said, glancing up at my book, startled.

            “I said,” cackled the man leaning toward me, “Whatchya reading?”  I gave him a look of disdain, thoroughly irritated to be interrupted and made a flicking motion with my hand as if to shoo him away.  He did not leave, but stood there, and said, “I just wanna know what you’re reading.”

            I flashed him the cover, reading it aloud as I did so, “If Looks Could Kill.”

          The rude man stalked off.

Can I just say that with all the brouhaha about the completely insane anti-health-insurance reform crowd that I am starting to panic that we really will have a replay of 1994 and that we will end up with nothing?  Or that whatever limps through in the fall will not do much?

Particularly now that I have joined the ranks of those with a ‘pre-existing condition’ i.e., hypoglycemia.  Which can be a precursor to other things that insurers don’t like.

Good health insurance – thank you Massachusetts! – gave my mother-in-law additional years of life.  Thanks to health insurance in Massachusetts that was affordable, my MIL got the best cancer care available (which in Boston is pretty damn good).  It couldn’t save her because the form of cancer she had was treatable, but not curable.   But that treatment afforded her at least two more summer cabin-camping trips with her grandsons (my kids) -the last cabin camping she did with a walker, a recently broken hip & a colostomy bag — talk about going the extra mile for the grandkids.   That treatment afforded her at least two more Thanksgivings.  That treatment allowed her to live long enough to sell her patent that she had worked on developing and trying to sell for over 15 years and meant that the money from the sale wasn’t completely eaten up by medical bills.  It meant that a woman who had minimal income after she got laid off in 2003 wasn’t stuck with the poor healthcare given to the uninsured.

All of which was due to the fact that she had good insurance, which was due to her having moved back to Massachusetts in 2004 before Massachusetts did its big health insurance reform.  Because otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to afford it and/or would have gotten dumped by her insurance company, as so many individually insured are.  Because after she got laid off in 2003, she couldn’t find a steady job.  Because she was only 58 when she died and not yet eligible for medicare.

Thank you Massachusetts.  If only the rest of the country could get its head out of its ass and follow some form of your example.

*Edited to fix stupid errors