It's been a long day...

And I should be going to bed. I have a doctor's appointment in the morning, and I never get enough sleep so it's very hard to get up before 10 am. Tomorrow I have to be out the door by 8:15.

But I am very happy that I get to go to the doctor tomorrow, that that visit and the lab work and prescription that accompany it are free. I don't pay a dime. I get thousands of dollars worth of drugs every year, drugs that do an amazing job at keeping Crohn's at bay. I get allergy medicines and the drugs for my ridiculously-slightly too high blood pressure (thank you endless crushing stress), and any and all the tests my doctors order for me -- the random ones everybody should get and the ones that come from having the digestive tract from hell. Two sleep studies and the machine that keeps me breathing all night. Hospital stays, ER visits, radioactive egg sandwiches. All free.

I don't pay a dime.

God damned socialized medicine at work. I don't have some cadillac health care plan, I am married to an Army guy. So all my medical care is provided by and paid for by the US government.

I know it's not always perfect. I had symptoms from Crohn's disease for 18 years before it was diagnosed, but in those 18 years, there have been great strides forward in military family health care. The US government can get it right.

My Mom almost died this Christmas. Thanks to the valiant efforts of the nurses in the Cardiac ICU, she survived. Some death panel there -- an 80-something year old woman, and they are spending lots of resources to keep her around. We are all very grateful for that. And again, it's government provided, since my Mom is on Medicare. The doctors talked about choices and issues and complications and heroic measures, but never once did they suggest that we should let her die, to preserve resources for the next person. The younger, healthier next person. So much for your death panels, Governor Palin.

But then wander over to Lou's, and he will guide you to another blog. One with a person who isn't so lucky. Start asking around, and I bet you can find lots of people who are either without insurance themselves or know somebody who is.

Health care is not a luxury. Having access to drugs that save your life, your sight, your kidneys or heart, that should not be a privilege. Dying too soon, too young, because some worthless person at an insurance company gets a bonus for denying as many claims as possible, because some heartless and thoughtless and subhuman exec thinks that making money for the shareholders is far more important than some average person's life, that should not be happening in this country.

Dear Republican Politicians. I am an American Citizen. I am married to guy who has spent the last 20-whatever years serving our country. I have spent countless hours volunteering for military families and civilian families and the communities where we have lived. I am a real American. I want health care for every single person in this country. I want health care reform. I want my friends and family to have the same "privilege" that I have -- to be able to go to the doctor when they are sick. To go to the doctor when they feel great, so that they don't die early from undiagnosed and untreated diseases. To be able to buy food and heat their homes and get their prescriptions filled.

I know I haven't been political on my blog much, because I don't want to offend. But this is who I am. I am very liberal, very progressive, very non-Republican, and I am pissed. And tired. And worried about my kids and your kids and everybody's kids.

I am a real American, and whenever somebody says that Americans don't want health care reform, well, they sure as hell are not speaking for me.

Worm holes and black dogs...

Secret Mom and Lou think they have worm holes, too, and Lou wonders where his socks end up. I am suddenly relieved that I only have a small kitchen-to-Suburban wormhole. I would hate to endlessly find someone else's socks on my kitchen counter...

Mojo dented the wall today. With his head. Not to worry, though, Moj has a head of steel and thus bounced off it without noticing. Very unfortunately the wall doesn't bounce back so well...

Today was a class -- FRG Fundraising and Finances -- then off to the hospital for lab work, then a quick lunch, to another meeting, then home --but wait! A phone call (curses. Finding my cell phone bites me in the keister.) before I even get home summons me to another meeting...When I finally actually do get home, the dogs have once again ripped into the kitchen trash.

And I have no tequila.

Oh, yeah...

Did I mention this here? I found my cell phone. In the Suburban.

From now on when something is missing, I am checking the Suburban first. The dogs were missing -- turns out they were in the Suburban. (We had taken them with us somewhere, and nobody remembered to let them out...an hour later we couldn't find them until I opened the door to the 'burb to go drive around to find them. I had even been on the elliptical trainer a couple feet from the 'burb and didn't realize they were there. They are very patient dogs.)

Thor's wallet? In the Suburban.

And now my phone. Perhaps we have some sort of tiny wormhole...stuff gets sucked from the kitchen counter to the Suburban. It would be great for bringing in the groceries if it were the other way around, although I would really hate for the carburetor to show up on the counter.

It's Tuesday.

I have nothing.

Except my basil plant -- if it is basil, why would I buy a basil plant when I don't particularly like basil...is not dead. It's a dead looking stick with three sorta green, slightly crunchy leaves.

(I may be back later...but I didn't want to miss a day of PoEvWeeDy!)

The Further Adventures of What the Hell Was I Thinking...

I think I should rename my blog...because I am the anti-organizer, and wonder what the hell I was thinking when I realize what I just did or did three days ago or two weeks ago.

Really, if you are one of those super-organized people, I hate you (just a little and only the anal parts...shit. That came out wrong. Whoops. We are on an accidentally bottom themed moment here, all completely inadvertent. Let's try that again -- just a little and only the super organized bits. Doesn't have the same ring to it, but less open to misinterpretation. I was not in fact insulting your behind.)

But that's beside the point -- what I meant to say is that if you are one of those super-organized people, I am your kryptonite. Spend enough time around me, work with me on a project, and I guarantee you will start losing papers and slacking off by playing Farmville on Facebook. You will find yourself ignoring your internet calendar to browse the intertoooobs for shoes and fabric. You will purchase items for a really fun new hobby and spend exactly 37.2 seconds on that hobby for each dollar you have spent.

That is how completely unorganized I am at the moment. I am so unorganized I am contagious.

Also, my basil plant died.

(And I know I skipped the weekend, but hey. If I post every weekday, that's like my own version of NaBloMoGo or whatever that acronym is... It's PoEvWeedy. Post Every WeekDaY. Works for me! Avatar coming soon!)