Grr. When Best Laid Plans Go Awry

Okay, here's the deal.

I was asked to make flight reservations for a trip that's already been rescheduled once. That trip got cancelled in the first twenty-four hours, so we didn't have to pay for the tickets. That was the rant I had a few weeks ago about United. An airline I will never, ever fly.

This time, I decided to try American. Which, by the way, after this experience I will probably never fly. We'll see (the jury's out having a smoke).

The reservation process was easy and painless. I got all three seats reserved on all four legs with no muss, no fuss, no bother. Suspecting this trip might also get canceled, I thought I would be clever and buy insurance on the tickets. That way, 'when' the trip got cancelled, for the nominal fee of $76 plus change, we could get a refund on the bulk of the price of the tickets.

W-R-O-N-G!!! (Insert favorite swear words here) It's just like every other insurance policy you buy.

You pay for it - in this case one time - and, when you need to use it, you might just as well have flushed your money down the toilet. It would be better used.

Okay - so these are three tickets. It's almost $1,300. But I ask you: how many insurance policies are bought on each flight each and every day? Hundreds? Thousands? Tens of thousands?

The chart below is from a website I found when I Googled "us domestic airline capacity"

http://centreforaviation.com/analysis/the-big-3-us-airlines-american-delta-and-united-increase-3q2015-profits-despite-lower-unit-revenue-245655

United Airlines global top 10 hubs/bases/stations by seats: 21-Sep-2015 to 27-Sep-2015

Source: CAPA - Centre for Aviation and OAG

Look at this. ORD = Chicago O'Hare. 770,282 seats in one - just ONE eight day, non-holiday period.

Okay - that's United. But I'm willing to wager American isn't far behind. Let's say for the sake of discussion, they sell "only" 500,000 seats per eight day period through O'Hare. And I wanted to insure three of those seats - just three. Less than 0.0003% of the seats sold in that eight day period.

Oh! My! Gawd! Yeah - those seats are going to put a HUGE dent in American's profits, aren't they? As if they won't be resold in a quarter of a heartbeat. Given that - why doesn't the airline just not pay Allianz, the insurer, the fees (probably huge) they pay Allianz for the insurance policies. Why not just charge, say... $75 per ticket to allow refundability?

No. When I checked, the refundable tickets were close to twice as expensive - so it's almost an 100% upcharge for refundable tickets through the airline.

To me, that makes zero sense. If the profit margins on each seat are so minimal, why stay in business at all? Why not either: restructure through bankruptcy to get rid of the horrendous union contracts, remodel your business so it runs more efficiently, and keep it private! Then you don't have stockholders and unions holding your passengers at virtual gunpoint.

Or, if you don't want to go that route, have your professional analysts that you already have on staff perform an analysis on the actual cost per seat per route per flight and the actual average number of cancelled / unused tickets per period - twenty-four hour, weekly, monthly, quarterly - and then have them do an analysis of the real cost to your business.

You know why that will happen at about the same time the herd of pigs takes off from O'Hare? Because those things are "hard" (they're not, really. Painful in the short-term, perhaps, but not hard.)

So here's the flip side. I bought the seats. We paid for them with a credit card. American got it's money - and I got the shaft. Actually, I didn't personally, but I have to deal with the shaft that our company will get as a result of the fact that I, as about 99.9999% of the people who buy such insurance, didn't read the fine print.

After all - if you do read the multitude of pages of fine print and you don't like what you're reading, what are you going to do about it? Really? Are you going to try to negotiate? Are you going to not do what you thought would be a good idea? No. Probably not. So, like that 99.9999% of other people I did not read the fine print because it would make no difference in this case.

Now, it falls to me to try to collect the money that paid for three seats that won't be used by three colleagues, but may well be resold and used by others - double profit for the airline, don't you see?

After all, if that flight has too many people wanting to fly on it - and two of the legs are between San Francisco and Chicago and back - and some of those people line up on 'stand-by' and three people who have reservations don't show and check-in before the designated time, the airline can sell those seats to those stand-by passengers.

To say this insurance scam perpetrated by the airlines pisses me off understates the irritation I feel to no small degree.

Plans change. Stuff comes up that interferes with the best-laid plans. But to hold a customer over a barrel and pick their pocket is just plain wrong. And that's what I feel is being done now.

Because the airline and their third-party insurer won't just cancel the tickets so the seats can be resold to other passengers, those seats may well remain empty. In exchange, I get the thrill and pleasure of fighting with an insurance company to recover nearly $1300 that could easily have been credited back to the card against which it was charged.

And, for clarity, I tried to cancel these tickets on Friday afternoon - 72-hours before the flight. It's not like a last minute cancellation or no show.

Given that, why can't the airlines do as most other businesses do?

At the hotel, it's a twenty-four hour notice.
At the car rental agency, they didn't seem to care one way or another, but thanked me for my call.
At my doctor's office which, I realize is a complete non-sequitur in this diatribe, it's a twenty-four hour notice.

Why can't the airlines have the same kind of policy? How about:

If booked a minimum of ten days in advance and if the tickets are cancelled within twenty-four hours of booking, the cancellation is made, no charge.

If the twenty-four hours lapse, but you call to cancel three days - seventy-two hours - in advance, there's a fee of $75 per seat. The airline has three more seats on its flight and can resell them, plus snap up the $75 cancellation charge.

If you wait until the last minute and cancel, sorry bud, you're SOL unless you bought the insurance and have the time, energy and willingness to fight with the insurer to recover your money.

Does that sound unreasonable?

Dang. I'm grumpy.

And I have to take part of my Saturday to call the airline and clarify something the agent said yesterday. These tickets might be reusable later on, within one year, with an up-charge. I need to find out what that up-charge is. Was it a flat $200 - or $60-something per seat, which would probably make sense to take advantage of since the new discussion is to make this trip in January - or was it $200 per ticket, which makes my fight with the insurance agency, assuming I'm successful with the claim, look a bit more cost-effective.

I don't know. All I do know is that I'm grumpy. So, I'm going to grump away here and start looking forward to NaNoWriMo which starts tomorrow.

Have a pain-free day!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

A Moment of Truth

Generally, when I write this little missive every day, it's as much an exercise in just writing as it is in relating little things going on in my tiny corner of the great big world. Like the letters to my mother, it's a means of opening the door a bit so she knew I was well and happy.

Since she's been gone since 2012, I haven't really had a release for these things. Since starting this in April I have, and it's been helpful and pleasant - a means of sharing good news and not so good stuff.

Today, however, I got to thinking about other things. Friends I miss, people who called me friend but who, for whatever reason, didn't really seem to be fully invested in 'friendship' as I define it. Even family hasn't been entirely 'there', so that's why. It's the why behind this post in which I'm going to open the door to a little bit of me today.

In my lexicon, friendship has a specific meaning. It's not a marriage or dedicated relationship, but it is a more than a 'when it's convenient to me' relationship.

I have few friends. It's not because I'm not friendly or rude or unpleasant. It's because I'm selective.

If I call you 'friend' it means that I will drop what I am doing to pick you up if you've fallen - but I expect the same in return should I need it.

If I call you 'friend', I will write to you, call you and listen when you need an ear or a shoulder. But, I expect the same in return, to the same amount.

In that case, if it's one hundred percent reciprocal, it's a 1:1 relationship. If I send a message or write a letter, I expect one back. My time and energies are just as limited anyone else's, and if it's down to a 2:1 or 3:1 exchange - it's not worth it to me.

Because of this attitude, I have stopped communicating with all of my 'friends' from past lives, which is sad and sometimes, like today, bothers me.

See, what happened, from my perspective only, of course, is this.

In 1995 I was hired at a company. I met some wonderful people along the way and I was there for seventeen years - until 2012 - when I was laid off because the company was downsizing. They had two people competing for the same position. One worked for the man who had the need, and I wasn't her. Ergo sum. And it was fine because I was getting stale in my job and it was time for a change.

However, in all those years I met several people who called me 'friend' and whom I called 'friend'. What was eye-opening, and more than a little sad, was that once I was laid off, those 'friendships' ended. Oh, we had lunch together once, but the e-mails I sent - well over a dozen - went unanswered.

Granted, I was on unemployment and spending my days looking for work - Craigslist and about a dozen other websites, crafting letters and refining my resume - so the e-mails were broadcasts to those I considered 'friends'. What upset me though, was the utter lack of response from those who had said, specifically, 'oh, let's stay in touch!'

Yeah. Like when you break up with your boy/girlfriend and you say, 'oh, we'll still be friends'. Riiiiight. We all know how that generally goes. And this was no different.

Twice in the following years - from then to now - I received some bare nod of a message. Along the lines of 'hope you're doing well, let me know how it's going' and nothing more. In other words, take your time to tell me what you're doing but I can't be arsed to reciprocate.

To me, this is not a friendship. This is something else and, frankly, I'm not sure what to call it.

I have the same approach to family.

My sister, for instance, after a silence of more than a year even though I sent her e-mail after e-mail until I gave up in late 2012 / early 2013 sent me a birthday card earlier this month. In it is a message that I took pleasure in receiving. I have the card on my bookcase at home. I have not, however, answered because that would re-open the door to the 2:1 or 3:1 or 4:1 communications.

Oh, we would start off at 1:1 but, and I can state this with certainty since it's been a repeated result, we would get to the point where I send one, then another, and perhaps a third with no response. With all I have going on in my life, and the limitations on my time and life expectancy, I don't have time for that kind of communication.

In a sense, a very big sense, this little blog I do every day fulfills that need to communicate. I hardly ever get comments on my posts - and that's fine. I've said it before, this is a rather selfish endeavor. If you stop by or trip over it on your way past, stop to peek in and take a look, that's great. But I do this, genuinely, for me. And if that sounds narcissistic and self-centered, so be it. It's real - which is how I roll.

So what's the point of this particular post, you ask? I don't know. Because I'm thinking of it. Because I miss those relationships but I'm not willing to sacrifice myself to try again when I know it will probably fail again. Because it's been bugging me. Whatever.

It's there. It's real. It's me and I won't apologize or retract. It's up to you, now, to decide how to take it.

Have a lovely day!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Didja Miss Me?

No yesterday wasn't an experiment or a test. It was a flub, an oversight or, in ancient parlance before the word took on a completely different and much less tasteful meaning, a 'boner'.

Yeah, yeah. You can stop snickering now. That's a slang word that was used to describe a misstep, not someone named 'Willie' standing at attention.

Truth to tell, I'm not quite sure what happened yesterday. Good intentions and all of that but, more than anything, I had a desk piled with papers - my avalanche - and a lunch date. Both took all my attention to the detriment of this. Then, when I got home, the debate was on and I watched that, then the analysis.

Lunch was nice. I enjoyed it and had a chance to talk one-on-one with one of the department heads. That's never the most comfortable situation because, no matter who you are or how confident, if you're an underling you can't help but watch your step. It's not the most relaxing situation. Particularly if it's the head of HR. However, it was nice and we spoke about all sorts of things, including my job and what I'm doing, which was expected and helpful. It gave me a chance to set a stake in the ground and run a line in different directions so she knows where my interests lie.

Now, to step backward and set it up properly, this was a thank you lunch. Last week there was a webinar that went sideways for about ten minutes before I got it back on track and saved the bacon. It wasn't a case of me being great (although I do like to think that I am), it's just familiarity with the program and its quirks and the other person not having the experience.

So, I got a lunch out of it. Which was nice, but not necessary since, in my view, I was just doing my job (even though it did partially take my attention away from other things on which I had planned to work). I learned some things from it, too, so double bonus.

Then, on the way home last night, I turned the radio to the Republican presidential debate in which, I think, the candidates rocked compared to Hilliary, Bernie and the other corpses the DNC dug up for theirs (it was so unmemorable that I can't even remember who was there aside from the two).

Last night, the questions asked by the moderators were the most unprofessional, least helpful or informative questions I have ever heard posed at a debate. Even the lead off question, which is one I've run across in job interviews, is a negative and it set the tone for the entire evening.

"What is your greatest weakness?" It's valid. If you're interviewing someone. Depending on the answer, it can show a certain level of self-awareness, but it's also a negative and it can so easily be gamed. However, asking that question as the opener at a presidential debate? Really?

"Is this a comic book version of a presidential campaign?" That was the very next question. What kind of a question is that? It's disrespectful, denigrating, and absolutely non-substantive. It's pure and simple baiting. But, Trump, to whom it was posed, wasn't stumped by it. He said what I think a lot of people were thinking: "it's not a very nicely asked question, the way you say that." And it wasn't.

There were others like those. Overall, the tone and impression left was that the candidates are almost all strong, capable contenders, able to think on their feet and not get caught by petty traps, while the moderators came across as nasty, little-minded people with an agenda and zero professionalism.

I listened to an hour of it on the radio because I was driving, and the moderators seemed to have no control over the event. John Harwood was the worst of the group. Rude, biased, vicious like a junkyard dog - an ugly little man in character as shown on television last night.

One "alleged" question was posed to John Kasich: "That is, you had some very strong words to say yesterday about what's happening in your party and what you're hearing from the two gentlemen we've just heard from. Would you repeat it?"

So... let me get this straight. This vicious little man wants a presidential candidate to repeat something someone else said about him or about his plans. What schoolyard does this idiot spend his time in? That's the kind of stuff ten-year olds do, not adult professionals. Pure and simple, that is baiting and I am delighted Kasich and none of the other people on that stage last night fell for such paltry tactics.

Quintanilla was another one. What a nasty personality there, too. Snideness on the part of a moderator has no place in a debate setting. These people are supposed to be neutral - unbiased - yet the bias showed through again and again all night long.

On the subject of taxes, Quintanilla asked Fiorina about taxes and the tax code. The exchange, copied from the Washington Post transcript, went:

Quintanilla: "You want to bring 70,000 pages to three?"

Fiorina: "That's right, three pages."

Quintanilla: "Is that using really small type?" - That, right there, is snide and demeaning. What was the point of that question?

Fiorina: "You know why three?"

Quintanilla: "Is that using really small type?" Again, what is the point of this?

However! Fiorina came back and blew the moron out of the water: "No. You know why three. Because only if it's about three pages are you leveling the playing field between the big, the powerful, the wealthy and the well-connected who can hire the armies of lawyers and accountants and, yes, lobbyists, to help them navigate their way through 73,000 pages."

That phrase, 'leveling the playing field', is a favorite of the liberal left. We're always supposed to level the playing field, handing out participation "trophies" instead of badges for winners. And she not only answered the question well, explaining her reasoning in a snapshot everyone can understand and assimilate, she didn't get tripped up by the snarkiness of the question as it was posed.

And so it went - nasty question and ugly poses by the moderators. It was, or it should be considered, an embarrassment for CNBC and clearly shows the attitude the media has toward anyone with a modicum of red in their blood.

Harwood: "...the fact that you're at the fifth lectern tonight shows how far your stock has fallen in this race..."

In all, Senator Cruz summed up what I and many others were seeing, beautifully: "You know, let me say something at the outset. The questions that have been asked so far in this debate illustrate why the American people don't trust the media.

"This is not a cage match. And, you look at the questions -- "Donald Trump, are you a comic-book villain?" "Ben Carson, can you do math?" "John Kasich, will you insult two people over here?" "Marco Rubio, why don't you resign?" "Jeb Bush, why have your numbers fallen?"

"How about talking about the substantive issues the people care about?"

 Beautiful!

And none of the people on that stage fell into the traps set by the 'moderators'. They said what they wanted to say, made the points they wanted to make and effectively marginalized the moderators' bias when it started standing higher than the intellects of the people sitting behind the moderator's table.

All-in-all it was a livelier, more engaging, funnier and better two hours than I expected. Comparing this match to the Democrat debate a few weeks ago? The Democrat love-fest was a sleep aid by comparison.

As for last night, I don't think anyone's mind was changed. I don't think anyone who has a favorite was swayed from their candidate to another.

It's early days, yet, and that will come later as people start paying closer attention. What was shown, though, is that these people who are running for the office of president are smart, mentally agile - they avoided the traps set with ease (which also speaks to the weakness of CNBC's staff since no one came up with anything that was a true 'gotcha' - which is what the network was looking for) - and capable.

I still think Jeb Bush looks like he's suffering from a terminal case of constipation, and John Kasich looks desperate - the expressions on his face coupled with his body language convey that. Trump was Trump, Carson was Carson but Christie was brilliant at times, even though I really don't like his 'strange bedfellow' approach to things political.

Based on what I saw, I'm interested to see how the next few weeks play out. The RNC obviously has their candidate picked - and it's not any of the "outsiders" - but I think they might be ready to switch horses, midstream or not, because Bush and Kasich just ain't cutting it. It will be interesting to see how all of this plays out in the coming weeks.

Stay tuned!

Now - back to life and living. Have a lovely day!

Best~

Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Ya Know - I'm Having Fun

Again, it's all little things - just the small stuff that comes along in a day that makes it worth getting out of bed.

Last night I went home feeling lousy. My legs hurt as if I'd done about a billion squats - the long muscles in my thighs, from skin through to bone. I felt like a kinda sorta wanted to kneel before the porcelain princess in the loo, but wasn't queasy enough to make the trip. I just felt like crap - and like I wanted to curl up in the nearest corner and sleep.

There's a bug going around and I got in its way. It flattened me - first on the sofa at about 6:45 last night, and then in bed from about 8:30. Sleeping all night straight is unheard of for me, but I did. Between the getting up from the sofa at 8:30 and collapsing into the bed was no more than about ten minutes, and I was asleep as soon as I settled into position. I didn't wake up until the first alarm went off at 4:45. At the third alarm at 5:45 I debated, then sent an e-mail saying, pretty much, "you'll see me when you see me" and then I went to sleep again, and slept some more. In all, it was probably twelve hours. Not bad for me, since 6.5 is normal.

When I finally did manage to pry my eyes open at 7:30 I felt a lot better. The achiness in my legs was gone. The general malaise and yucky stuff had passed. I didn't have a fever, so it was good.

Getting to work I still felt like I'd left my brain on the pillow - 2+2 was an advanced mathematical formula at that point. Since then, though, I've started feeling better, more alert and think I can figure out 2+2. I might even be able to manage 3+3 or 4+4.

I solved a few problems that were lurking, then got a project out of the way. After that, I got started in on the growing pile of other stuff waiting.

I do have to say that, right now, I feel as if I'm standing at the bottom of a col in the Swiss Alps and there's an avalanche heading directly for me.

(Aside as a sanity check: yes, 'col' is a word. It means a narrow gap between two mountains - narrower than a pass.)

See? There's another cool word. I love words, but then I've mentioned that a time or two before. Another point in my favor today - I got to use a rarely used word. Yay me!

Back to that, though, it's coming in faster than I can process it, so the stack is growing and it's getting a bit scary. Of course, it is month-end, so that's part of it. At least I'm busy. That's a good thing, too.

We're supposed to get rain here tonight. Again, as I have for the past couple of years, I'll believe it when I see it, but 'they' keep talking about it. First, it was supposed to be rain - with an 'r'. Now they're saying sprinkles - with an 's'. A baby water-falling-from-the-sky event but at this point, we'll take whatever we can get.

It is cloudy outside right now.  What I don't get though is when people say "it looks like rain" or "it feels like rain". I hear that and it's a head scratcher.

Maybe because I'm from California and it's drier here, we don't get that heavy, damp feeling before a rain very much. When it's cloudy, it's cloudy and there are few times when it "feels" like rain. Sometimes, when the clouds are thick and heavy looking it will "look" like rain but, for me, because of how literal I am, unless it's actually a water-falling-from-the-sky event, it doesn't look or feel like rain. It's dry until it's not is an easier way of saying it.

But that's me and I'm not you so if you like saying 'it looks like' or 'it feels like' you go right on ahead. I'll ignore it and just smile, nod and maybe, if I'm so inclined, will say, 'yep, it sure does'.

The countdown to NaNo is getting shorter. My fingers are itching to cheat but my character is saying, 'no' even though I am starting to wonder how on Earth I'm going to get 50,000 words written in the time allowed, along with working full-time, commuting ten hours per week, and trying to have a home life with the family. I guess I'll just have to type really, really fast.

Another really nice gift from today is that I've been asked out to lunch tomorrow - in thanks for saving someone's bacon. They were doing something, it didn't go well, I stepped in and saved the day for them. In thanks, they're going to feed me. I love being fed, so I didn't say no, even though I did try the, 'oh, you don't have to do that!'.

So, the good things all lined up for today are:

Maybe some water falling from the sky
Being fed
Being upright without feeling like I'm about to fall over.
And I got to use the word 'col' in a sentence.

Yep. It's been a pretty darned good day. So, on that note, I hope your day was equally filled with little blessings and that your getting out of bed this morning was worthwhile.

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

"Monday Monday, Can't Trust That Day"

Truer words were never sung because this has been one heckuva day.

I noticed last night that it's a full or close to full moon, so maybe that has something to do with it. Maybe stress, worry and sleeplessness have something to do with it. Whatever. It's weird.

I walked into work, fired up my computer and my screens were halfway wonky again. I don't know why. Nothing except a weekend in between then and now changed. But the resolution was goofy. It wasn't the mouse this time - thank goodness!

However, I did learn, belying the old saw about old dogs and tricks. I signed in before doing anything about the wonky computer, so at least that wasn't messed up, too.

I don't even know what I did but, after about thirty minutes the left screen went black - 'no signal'. Jiggled and fiddled and voila! it came back - and the resolution was fixed, too. Weird.

Maybe the moon was passing through the House of Jupiter and touched the doorway of Mercury. I don't know, but it's fixed and working.

Opened Outlook and the world appears to have exploded. A collection of e-mails of the "I need this now!" variety. Great. Monday has barely started and it's like being surrounded by three-year olds in need of a cookie.

Unfortunately, none of the needs are minor. All are time consuming and require some variety of prioritization. Took care of a couple of easy ones first, delved into the most time consuming and got that done, went to my ten o'clock meeting, dove into the next group and so on. Now, at noon, I feel better about things.

Except for the dearth of sleep. Yep - insomnia struck again. Which, if I had motivation to get up and do something, and if there was a modicum of flexibility of schedule, it wouldn't be such a bad thing. There are, after all, twenty-four hours in a day, so if it were up to me, I would sleep when I'm sleepy and work / write / play when I'm not. Too bad convention demands a schedule.

In this case I'm functioning (or trying to pretend really hard) on four hours or so of sleep. Not ideal. Another hokey-pokey night - right foot in, left arm out, etc.

Oh well. C'est la... vie, guerre, take your pick, I'll leave it to you.

I am getting things done, and they're not going too sideways because I am taking my time to keep them from going sideways. On a day like this I really don't want to get the phone call from someone, "Hey, you screwed up!" Not a good thing when I'm half asleep. It disturbs my nap. So I'll take my time and pay attention.

Tonight, however, I will sleep. A lot. Probably during the snoozer of the Monday Football game because I don't care about the Cardinals and whoever it is that they're playing. I'll let hubby watch that, provide pillow services for Sam, who will no doubt take full advantage, and sleep.

What's weird / funny / ironic about hubby is that if I'm really tired and say I want to go to bed early, I get an argument - "Why can't you stay up until 9:30?". If I fall asleep on the sofa, that's okay. No comment. Gee - could it be a control thing? Hmmm. Let me think...

And I need to get well rested before the weekend. NaNo starts on Sunday and I have a huge goal, as mentioned previously. I don't know that I'll really need eighteen pages a day, I may cut that back to something more realistic. I guess I'll find out. Then I may regret not cheating.

We did more house clearing yesterday, even though I'd asked for the weekend off, but it was good and easy and you can't tell because we cleared out our collection of VHS tapes. We kept a good few - probably in the range of 100 or so, but tossed at least as many. Unfortunately, this is another case of not being able to see the result. Not unless you look in the garbage bin. But they're gone and it's that much less stuff to go through.

So - that's about it from here for now. I'm going to get back to work so I can get home at a decent hour, and get some much needed sleep!

Have a lovely day and a non-insomniac night!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

A Day for Counting

I have decided enough negativity is about twenty times too much, and I have spent the last ten days or so whining, bitching, moaning and complaining. Therefore, I am going to make a determined effort count the flowers today.

• I woke up early, feeling rested.
• I got my chores done in good time.
• I have my eyesight
• It's a beautiful day outside.
• I have my mobility.
• The laundry is hanging on the line, absorbing the sunshine.
• I have my marbles and play with them regularly.
• I've spent hours writing, working on 'In A Green & Shady Place' before I set it aside for the month of November.

Tomorrow I have a couple of meetings and a big stack of work, so I won't go in and cast around for something to do. That's always a good thing.

Yep. Overall, life is very darned good, and I'm pleased.

One of the things I want to do in the next week or so is come up with a recipe for baked potato soup. I've had it from a restaurant, and it was good, although a bit too salty for my liking. On top of the salt in the bacon, I suspect they added more for "flavor". I've also had it from Safeway - their story version. It's quite good but I like my soup thicker. Progresso makes one, too, but that one's full of chemicals and crap to keep it "fresh" inside the can.

I want rich potato taste, thick broth and lots of savory flavor. I have my ideas, so I'll give it a try next weekend. As with everything having to do with cooking, if it's edible when it goes in, it will probably be edible when it comes out, even if it's not palatable. Fortunately, my palate is pretty forgiving and I very rarely end up with something I refuse to choke down.

Instead of heavy cream and/or half-and-half, which some recipes call for, I'll go for whole milk and yogurt instead of sour cream. There's no avoiding the bacon, * snap of fingers * oh darn! Celery, a bit of green onion for the milder flavor, sauteed together in butter since this is not something that will permit olive oil, unfortunately. Lots of black pepper, because I like black pepper, and lots of potato so it will be thick. Mmmm.

Right now, though, while it sounds good it's not mouthwatering. There was left-over salad from a catered lunch on Friday. No one else wanted it, so I bagged it up and brought it home. It was pretty limp by yesterday, even worse today, but it was still tasty.

And I keep telling myself that the calorie count really isn't that bad. It's all in the dressing, right? I'll ignore the croutons and shredded Parmesan cheese (it was mostly Caesar salad).

I managed to convince hubby that I didn't want to do more house clearing this weekend and he agreed. It was a grudging agreement, but it's Sunday afternoon and he's only complained once. By next weekend I expect we'll be nearly done and he can call for the bin. I just hope it doesn't rain once the bin arrives. But it probably will. That's how these things go, right?

The NaNoWriMo exercise is getting to be a challenge. I haven't started because that would defeat the idea, but my naughty alter-ego is pushing me to start. My angel side keeps saying, 'no, not until next weekend.' Fortunately, with the intervention of a week of work, I should be able to keep my honor intact and not start before November 1. Next Sunday. One more week and then...

I've played out what the first chapter will be in my mind, and I know what will come next and next. It's just hard not to put it down on paper. But I won't. Not until it's time and the starting gate lifts.

Looking in on the NaNo site I get the sense that some people are pushing the boundary. That they've started their writing. One even said they'll "reduce their November word count" by whatever number they have before then. Uh, yeah. Uh huh.

Sorry - but if you're going to cheat once, why would I think you won't cheat again?

Whatever. It's not really a competition with others. It's a competition with self - a how much quality can I put down on paper in thirty days? My goal is to get the 50k down in ten days and then spend the next twenty days editing and cleaning. That's pretty ambitious. Five thousand words per day, consistently. I just checked, copying from 'Shady' and discovered that five thousand words is roughly eighteen pages in Word. That's a lot of pages everyday and everyday.

But, it's a goal - not a requirement, so we'll see.

Anyway. Life and hubby are calling so I'm going to wrap this up. I hope you have a lovely day. Take a minute and count your blessings, too. Even the little ones have value - never take the good for granted.

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

A Wild and Crazy Week

I made it! It's like reaching shore after a long, grueling swim through shark-infested water. At least that's how it seems to me. Someone who's never made a long grueling swim through shark-infested water. It's just been a hard week all around.

I had my eye issue, which seems to be okay. But, because I took four hours off on Monday to rush to the first eye doc to get it checked, and rushing to the retinal specialist for confirmation, I was working from the time I got up until I got home at night.

Race to get ready for work and get out of the house. None of the leisurely early morning pleasure that makes my days worthwhile. Just get up, get showered and dressed, make the bed, take care of the cat and race out the door as early as possible. Short lunches, longer days, I am too old for this. In my thirties or early forties it probably wouldn't have fazed me. Now it did.

Thursday was more racing because I wanted to get to work early enough to put in at least seven hours before having to leave to race to my follow-up appointment.

Between the time constraints and tiredness, I had no room or energy for writing, so this has languished along with everything else. Now, while I waited to be squeezed in at the retinal doc, and while I waited for my eye to dilate on Thursday at my follow-up (another two hours that had to be recovered), I did work on 'In A Green and Shady Place'. Adding a touch of detail to take the reader to where the MC is speeding along a country road.

At the end of it all, I made up all but one minute and forty-eight seconds. I hit the end of the week, after taking six productive hours out, at 39:97 on the timekeeping software. Not bad. Not even worth fussing about.

I also learned that the ex-husband of one of my colleagues has recently been diagnosed with Stage IV cancer. They have two minor kids together, so it's worrying to her how they'll be provided for if things don't go well. Ex has a new lady in his life, so will she reap the benefit to the exclusion of the couple's kids?

It's a tough place to be - I have nothing but admiration for her strength and determination, but she's in a world of hurt and fear. Even though they're ex's, and even though it's a good place for both of them to be (being ex), there's still that foregoing relationship that led to a marriage and two children. In there were good times, good memories and times when all was right with the world. And now this. He's in his forties, so it's about twenty years before most people expect to be faced with stuff like this. So, on top of being horrible and difficult, there's the surprise.

That came up yesterday while I was talking to her about the upcoming benefits year.

It's funny. When I first joined the company I'm with, I was working for a temp agency. Because of the fluidity of staff, temp agencies simply cannot afford to provide great benefits. They're there, but they're expensive, so I never signed up.

When I was hired here, almost a year ago, the benefits were glossed over. It was almost at the level of, "Yes, we have benefits." No information about costs or plans or alternatives and, having just come from the world of temps, after Obie-One Care was enacted and came into being, I didn't know. I didn't even know enough to ask. I assumed, and we all know what that leads to.

So, the other day, there was a benefits meeting. The person who was supposed to run the slideshow ran into technical difficulties. The computer she was using didn't want to do what it was supposed to do. Five minutes after the meeting was supposed to start, they called me. Only problem is, they're 300 miles away, so I can't see what they're seeing. That made it impossible for me to know how to fix what was broken - particularly given that I was getting pop-up after pop-up in my Outlook from all and sundry saying "I can't sign in!"

Long story short, after trying various things I did what I wasn't planning on doing. I "attended" the meeting, and ran the slideshow while still doing what I had planned to be doing on the second screen of my computer setup. All I did was listen for the 'blah-blah-blah-next slide please' when I would frantically reach for the mouse to advance the slide. Along the way, I learned that the benefits I had heard about weren't anywhere near as expensive as I had thought.

Yesterday, to cap my week, I signed up. There's a waiting period through November, of course, and the benefits are minimal, but they're there and will be available if / when I need them.

They wouldn't cover my recent adventure, but if I need to see the doc for something, I can. If I want to get a skin check - which I haven't had in four years, now - I can. I am so excited!

Last night I was in bed at eight-thirty and slept solid until seven-fifty this morning - unheard of for me! But it points to how tired I was. Today I feel like a zombie, but I am looking forward to getting life back on track. Normal mornings with coffee and writing. Normal days with no rushing out the door so I can rush around work so I can rush home. Ahhhh. Normal. What a wonderful thought.

Now, I'm going to wrap this up and experiment with normal, see how it fits and what it feels like.

I wish you a happy, normal, calm and average day - don't complain and don't take them for granted!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

WHOOOOSH It Got Away!

This week has been nuts.

There was Monday's excitement about which I started to write yesterday.

Then yesterday raced by before I could get my post posted. It was ten o'clock at night and it still wasn't quite done, so I went to bed instead of finishing it. Now, here I am, doing my Wednesday post as an effective adjunct to yesterday's post which I just posted this morning. As I say, nuts.

Yesterday was still twenty-four hours long, right? It didn't shrink and become less time did it?

No, I didn't think so.

I guess it's a compendium of guilt for having missed work on Monday - to the tune of four hours. Having the compulsion to make up for lost time, and feeling like everything is spinning out of control, even though it really isn't out of control.

The other thing that's driving me is that I really don't like using accrued time off for this kind of stuff, even though I know that's what it's there for. I prefer using it for when I feel I really need it. Like when I've been beaten into submission by the flu and can hardly move for being so sick. That's when I think time off should be used. Not otherwise. Except for vacation.

After losing four hours on Monday - plus the fact that I was just a tad distracted and paying more attention to worry than to work - and knowing I'm going to lose another two hours tomorrow for my follow-up with the retinal specialist, I'm trying to make up for lost time. But I think that's another exercise in pushing water uphill.

Well, no matter. It's how I am and what I do. I worry and feel guilty and want to make my employer "whole" for my time. Call me an overachiever or anything else you choose. It's who I am and what I do.

So this morning, tomorrow and Friday I'll try to get to work earlier than usual, and I'll work a little later than usual, and do my best to get as close to forty hours this week as I can manage. And then I'll back-fill the missing time from my account. No matter. That's less than miniscule in the overall scheme of things. What's important is that all is well in my little corner of the world.

And what I went through in the past week speaks directly to why I would never do Lasik eye surgery. I have one set of eyes. They are not replaceable. They are delicate enough that a clumsy move can make my world dark in an instant. Losing one means I'm halfway to losing everything, and that doesn't interest this ordinarily glass half full gal.

Anyway. This is actually good discipline for me - the getting up and getting to things. Not schlobbing around the house in my jammies. Staggering to the coffeemaker before doing anything else. Sitting down and writing before doing the grup stuff of making the bed and so on. That's my normal routine. This morning it took me a second after the alarm shattered sleep to remember what I'm doing, then I did it. So I'm on track. Dressed with coffee and doing this before anything else. Then I'll go upstairs in a sec, make the bed, take care of Sam and do my other things preparatory to leaving the house at 0'dark thirty.

Once I get to work I have a pile of stuff on my desk that I'm weeding through and cleaning up. And that's always a pleasure for me. Pile stuff up, work it down to manageable, repeat.

Looking at what I have and what's remaining, I'm winning the battle. Another couple of days and the nightmare I dove into three weeks ago will be back under control. It will still take ongoing maintenance, but I expect I'll actually have time to spare for other things. Like what I was supposed to be working on before this landslide came along and I got started digging it out.

Of course, month-end is coming, too, and that will result in another huge deluge of stuff in this area. But that's okay. At least the backlog is cleared up.

And I've had it confirmed again. The biggest, most important method for solving stuff like this is communication. Second, and just as important, is doing what you say you'll do. Third is explaining why you did it.

That Golden Rule again, don't you know. Treat others as you would like to be treated. Pick up the phone and talk to them. Send them an explanatory e-mail. Such simple stuff. Sometimes I just have to shake my head because my predecessor who was also my antecedent, didn't seem to have that ability. That means the people with whom I'm dealing in his stead are a bit distrustful and more demanding than I remember them being when I dealt with them before.

I don't blame them. Not at all. Once bit, twice shy isn't one of those old sayings for no good reason. Fortunately, I am known to them because I worked with them for months before this all came about and fell apart. They know me and they know, or at least I think they know, that I'll do my best - and that's helped oil the waters and bought some time.

I do have several who are still screaming loudly - but they'll settle down, too, and we'll get this all smoothed out. Which is what I'm looking forward to doing today. Getting in, getting to work and making it all better.

You know? That sounds like so much fun I'm going to end this, finish up around here and hit the road.

I hope you have a lovely, pleasurable day full of stuff you enjoy doing.

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

A Personal Argument Against Obamacare (the Affordable Care Act)

Last week I ran into a problem with my vision. It wasn't major at the time, but it was worrisome. I had blood in my eye. I called and made an appointment with my optometrist, fully expecting a referral, but the earliest I could be seen was today, Tuesday.

Yesterday, not wanting to wait another thirty hours for the eye appointment I had set up for this afternoon, I called and asked if I could be seen sooner. Nope. Booked solid, but he asked me what was going on. I told him. He said (not quite, but it could well have been), "Great Scott! You have got to see someone right now!!!!" It was pretty much the last bit. The "You have to see someone right now" because he told me to call a retinal specialist immediately.

Long story short, I am not on the verge of losing some or all of my eyesight in my left eye. I do not have a retinal tear (which could affect my sight quite badly) or detachment (which would mean I would be blind if they couldn't fix it). I don't need surgery. I do, however, have a blood speck in my eye - which is what I'm seeing and what led to all of this.

It's an almost tear - a not quite tear where the gel that fills the eye has drawn away from the retina. If it had done so with force, I would have a tear and a blind spot pending repair involving surgery. If the surgery worked, which is not guaranteed.

With all of that though, and all of the expense associated, it got me thinking about Obamacare - the "Affordable" Care Act that was enacted a couple of years ago.

Do you realize that even though I am going to be out-of-pocket about $1,000 for all of this - $300 for the first doctor I saw, plus almost $500 for yesterday's visit to the retinal specialist, plus the charges I'll incur for the follow-up I have scheduled for Thursday, I am still ahead of the game without having health insurance?

If I had signed up through my company in January, I would have paid $500 per month for ten months in premiums. Out-of-pocket $5,000 to date.

Then, because of the $6,000 deductible the policy I considered carries with it, I still would have had to pay from my own account the $1,000 for the services I'll receive related to this.

So, instead of $1,000, my expenses thus far would have been $5,000 in premiums to date (January to October, for this year) plus $1,000 out of pocket for deductible expenses for a total of $6,000. And that's "Affordable".

No, thanks. At an 80% savings, I'll self-insure.

Now, if I did have to have surgery, there would be the question of which is cheaper. According to the nice lady with whom I spoke at the retinal specialist's office yesterday, the expenses for their services for yesterday's visit and the surgery and post-op would be about $2,300 to $2,500. Then there would be the hospital, the anesthesiologist, and nurses and all of that on top of it.

I still think I would have been in the black on that one. Because the premiums for me for one year are $6,000, plus the $6,000 deductible before benefits start opening up, that's a $12,000 window.

Say, $2,500 for the specialist, plus outpatient surgery of $6,000, plus the other expenses. It probably wouldn't have been more than $9,000 or $10,000, total - still under the $12,000 I would pay in premiums and deductible. Then, on top of the $6,000 premiums, if I was still under the $6,000 benefits threshold, I would still be paying the majority of cost for this stuff.

Hmmm. So, $6,000 for premiums plus $6,000 to satisfy the deductible = $12,000 versus $8,000 out-of-pocket. Which do you think is more affordable?

Looking at it from that perspective, the "Affordable Care Act" is anything but.

No, thanks. I'll self-insure and I suggest you think about doing the same.

Yes, there are fines being imposed by the IRS, but they're not as onerous as the premiums and deductibles which, I've heard, have gone up somewhere in the range of 30% to 40% in the past year.

You do know why they made this a mandatory thing, right? It's so you will pay for everyone else who can't afford the Affordable Care Act. They knew it would be too expensive for many. There are almost as many uninsured people now as before the law was passed and enacted. It's just that now, someone like me who cannot afford the $500 premium plus the medical outlay is a criminal. I'm breaking the law. How does that work in a democratric republic such as this country is supposed to be?

Oh well. That's a discussion for another day. In the meantime, stay healthy and have a lovely day!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Donna's Been Shoved Into The Closet

I'm tired of whining, so I'm going to try to shove Donna Downer into the closet where she belongs, and focus on good things.

This morning I got an early start to my day, much earlier than usual. The sauna was in full sway, so I lost some weight, I think, and have the opportunity to get a few extra hours in.

I played a couple of games of Farm Heroes. I went to the writer's sites and checked out what's happening there. I checked my blog and read and just messed around. Then I decided to get up and start on this. Extra time so no pressure.

Yesterday was good. We got more of the house cleared out and have only the living room, dining room, kitchen and family room to go. Hubby said he's already gone through some of the stuff in the family room, so progress is being made. The pile in the garage attests to that.

My coffee has just about stopped dripping. That'll be nice. The best part of waking up and so on.

I did manage to spend some time on my story yesterday, but I'm back near the start instead of where I want to pick it apart. Thinking about it, I'm not sure what the hang-up is, but I've decided to do something not outlined in the other day's blog post. It will be similar to, and be a compendium of, but not one or the other or part of two.

This weekend also saw another entry in the Flash Fiction arena. A response to the prompt 'warm up' and it was well received. Not a whole lot of votes, but a respectable number, so I'm pleased.

It was a story about... well, heck, I'll let you read it for yourself, and then I'll go off and start working on 'Shady' because I'm having second thoughts about some of what I added (does it add to the story and move it forward? No. So what am I going to do about it? I don't know. I need to think about it.)

* * * * *

The Student

Sheila tipped her head back with a sigh, closed her eyes and rubbed her hands over her face. She was more than exhausted. She was running on fumes and it was still three days before her midterms. Between her job and school, sleep was a precious commodity, indeed. In the other room, the clock chimed – once. Outside, from the window to the streetlights, it was pitch black.

“Well, I’m not doing anyone any good, now.” Pushing the chair back, she stood, turned out the desk lamp and staggered across to the bed, collapsing across it without taking time to remove her robe.

* * * * *

“Time.” The proctor looked around at the small group, noting the long, drawn faces, and smiled. He had been there, years before and had no pity for the latest crop. “Put down your pencils and pass your test books, notes and scorecards to the front. Then you may leave.”

Next to her, Wren slid her hand to about shoulder height. “Excuse me, sir?”

“Yes?”

“When will the test results be posted?”

“Next Wednesday, and your scores will also be e-mailed.” He looked around again and smiled, “And just think, in a few months one or two of you may be clerking for a Supreme Court Justice. If you did well enough.”

Sheila just shook her head, gathered her things, stood, and followed the others out the door. I wish.

* * * * *

“You’re late!” Larry stood in the doorway of the dressing room, his fat face bright red and glistening with sweat. From behind him, the bump and grind of the music told her how long she had to finish getting ready. Plenty of time because Lily would finish and then Debi would take over.

Sheila didn’t do more than look over as she slipped the fine net stocking over her toes. “I told you I had my last mid-term today and that I’d be late.”

He advanced into the room. Three months earlier she would have been both repulsed and frightened. Now she was bored.

She slid the sheath higher, taking care not to snag a fingernail on it. He wouldn’t do anything to her, and he wouldn’t fire her. As Bambi Bedlight she was one of his biggest draws. The butt, boobs and baby-blues that made her professors to disbelieve she also had a brain were her, and Larry’s, greatest assets. At her thigh, she clipped it into the garter and bent over to repeat the action with her left leg.

“You think you’re special.” Larry spat. “You’re not. You’re a whore, just like the rest of them. You’ll never get a job away from here.”

Still she ignored him, turning to the mirror and adjusting the skimpy bra, pushing the silver pasties down below the edge of the fabric.

He came closer still, until he was right behind her, his angry, piggy eyes glaring at her through the glass. “What makes you think you’re so special? You think I couldn’t stop you dead in your tracks? A word here, a picture there, you’d never get a job.”

She spun in a slow, deliberate motion, dismissing his threat with her action. “Yeah, you could do that, but that’s blackmail and that’s a crime. So you try it, Larry, just try it. I know about you and your little sideshow. The girls you bring into L.A. from Mexico for some of the pervs you call customers. You want to blackmail me, you go right ahead, but I’ll use the ashes of you, your reputation and your business to warm up my law career with the D.A.” She turned back to the mirror, picked up the lipstick and leaned forward to get a better look as she drew it on. She wasn’t naïve enough to ignore Larry, so watched him although her focus was on the line of her lips.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He hissed.

She did, though, so didn’t say anything. In a week she’d get her grades. She was confident in the test, she had studied hard and thought she had done well. Her application was ready and, as soon as she got the grade, she would attached a screenshot of it and send them off.

Debi’s music was getting close to the end. After another check, she straightened and stepped around Larry, heading for the long bar with its poles, spotlights and drunken patrons jacking off inside their britches.

* * * * *

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” The light brown eyes squinted in concentration. “I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere.”

She froze and swallowed, afraid that he had, that he’d seen a lot of her. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was one of the regulars at the club.

“Well, no matter. Have a seat. The others will be here in just a minute.” He sat down across the long table from her, his eyes not moving as he thought.

After a minute of shrieking nerves, she made a decision. Sliding forward on the chair she folded her hands on the polished wood. “I’ve never broken the law. I’ve never done anything criminal, but you might know me from my job.”

“Oh?”

She moved back, her stomach cramping. “I work at The Harem. I’m a dancer. It’s how I’ve paid my way through school.”

His jaw dropped as the blood surged into his cheeks and then drained.

“Look, I don’t want to do that for the rest of my life. I did it to earn money for school. If you don’t say anything, neither will I, but don’t disqualify me for this job because of that. Consider it a mistake, but if I get this job, I won’t go back there except to clear out my locker and get my last paycheck.”

It took a long minute while he thought, but then he smiled. “That’ll be a shame.”

She relaxed and confided, “I even have a case for you.”

 
* * * * *

So, there we have it. Not even four-thirty and my blog post is done, including minor edits to a short piece I put up on Saturday. Now, the coffee is ready and I'll go over and get to work on 'Shady'.

Have a lovely day!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories 

Dejunking & Other Stuff

This weekend was a continuation of last in the dejunking effort. We've made it downstairs and have started at the front of the house.

It's amazing how much junk we've got. Coffee table books, a robotic myna bird, an old turntable, a desk lamp that doesn't work. It's just collected and neither of us have stopped to think, 'what's that doing there?' It was there and it sat and gathered dust. Now it's in the garage, gathering dust.

There's still a lot to go, and our primary agreement of 'we both have to agree' is in force. He's keeping the stupid carved and painted wood parrot sculpture that I hate, and I rescued the quartz cats that he didn't think either of us wanted. I also rescued the glass duck. We have a duck collection - different ducks, one wicker, one steel, a couple ceramic, one glass and one wood. I love my ducks, so when I found the one that had been in his office in the donate pile, I pulled it out, washed it, and now it's on the shelf with its brothers.

Because of his rotten attitude yesterday, I went to dream-state and spent a couple of hours there. I didn't accomplish anything, but it was nice. Frankly, I looked at real estate online. I found two places, one a condo with HOA and restrictions, but a nice looking place for one person. The other is the cutest little place, all dressed up inside like something from a magazine. Both are in about the same price range - affordable, if. And it's that 'if' that's the sticking point.

Enough of that, though. Hubby's mood has passed, we're friends again, as much as we ever are, and things are back to normal. I expect, in less than five minutes, that he'll be bellowing that I need to come down and watch tonight's football game.

The good news, and one thing that really is telling for me, is that Michigan State beat Michigan yesterday. That made hubby happy, but the tell is in his reaction to it. It isn't normal.

See, he'd been watching the game. Because of his irritation / annoyance at things here, he blew out of the house yesterday and disappeared in his car. I found out last night, once we started talking again, that he'd gone to the local casino to watch it. Personally, I think that's great - if it gives him a chance to get out and see the world, at least a little, it'll be easier for him when he's here. It's like a release valve.

So he was watching the game and then decided to come home. Michigan State was trailing, it was the fourth quarter, but he still kept hoping until it seemed a foregone conclusion that they were going to lose. He went outside to do some work and missed the miracle.

Michigan went to punt the ball - and muffed it. The kicker dropped it. Michigan State picked it up and ran it into the end zone for a game winning touchdown. It was, really, a miracle. That kick should have been the game winner - even though it wouldn't score points. It would seal the deal - but the kicker dropped the ball, and...

Then hubby was all depressed, until we saw the score. Then, for a solid two hours, he moped about it. He didn't even go to Michigan State! He just likes their coach, but for two hours he kept saying, 'why didn't I watch it? Why did I leave?' He was distracted and distant and it was... weird.

Honey, I have news for you. It was a football game. It was not a cure for cancer. It was not the final moments of World War III. It was a meaningless sporting event. But he moped and pondered and talked to himself about it.

Now that, to me, seems a bit obsessive. And weird. And worrisome. But at least they won, so he had a good moment, and we're talking again and he's not mad.

And, yes, there's the call for dinner, so I'll wrap this up and just say that the house is cleaner than it was and things are back on track. Thank goodness!

I hope your life is straight and comfy - with no moping or obsessing.

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Getting Older Is No Fun At All - Can I Be Ten Again?

I don't often wish I was ten again, but sometimes I do. When the grup stuff gets to be too much, I want to go back to a time when my biggest worry was that Mom was making tuna casserole for dinner (bleah!!!... sorry, Mom).

When I was ten I would often walk the fine line of staying out late enough to miss dinner and get a walloping, or getting home just in time for dinner being set on the table and a, "you're too late. You'll have to get your own."

Then I would shrug and say, "I'll get something later, if that's okay." From there, I would decide and, if it was tuna casserole, I'd go hungry. It was better that way.

Today is a day I wish for simpler times. Hubby is in a mood because he had an "encounter" yesterday. We had been told something would happen, it didn't. He got angry and yelled and screamed. He called me at work and yelled and screamed about it some more and I said, "do you want me to see if I can fix it?"

He calmed down a little and said, snidely, "you can try, but it won't do any good." He said some other things, too, highly uncomplimentary about the person with whom he had tried to deal. Well, I tried, and I applied honey instead of his full-on acid and, while it's not perfect, it is better than it would have been. I called him back. I didn't gloat (hint: never gloat around my hubby. It makes him angry.), I just explained the result. He sounded cheerful and happy and all of that. But I suspect he's now simmering because I solved something he didn't.

I got home. We had a pleasant evening, up until we were getting ready for bed.

He brought the subject up again and I explained the compromise I had reached. He started in again, being uncomplimentary about the person and the company they work for and so on. I calmly said that they were just doing their job, there wasn't anything more they could do, and so on. And he got irritated. "You're not on the same page as me! You never are!" Well, no. Because I didn't agree with his assessment or his approach or his declarations. It just isn't in me to say I agree with something when I don't. So I stood my ground and he got angrier and I finally said, "maybe you're right and I'm wrong, but we can't solve it here. Good night." I went to bed.

This morning, he's still grouchy and irritated and I'm not sure what's going to come of it. It just feels like a battlefield with a storm threatening. This will pass, but I can't help but wonder when.

Now, if I was ten years old, I could just run away and go home and read a book and I wouldn't worry about it. But I'm not and I can't so I am. It's no fun.

There are several issues at play in this, and none are solvable. For one, he has zero people skills. He used to have them, when he had to work for a living. But his father never had people skills either, and his mother is... quiet. And introverted to the point of agoraphobia and, frankly, not too bright. So hubby never learned people skills. He's an only child, to boot, so there was no battling with a sibling, no art of compromise lessons that come from negotiating with a sibling.

When it comes to handling people, to working with them toward a common goal, he's incapable. He bludgeons his way to completion, sometimes leaving "bodies" behind because he doesn't know any other way.

He's not a bad person. He has his good points, too, but because he's locked in the house with his mother all day long, the minimal people skills he ever had have atrophied into non-existence.

At this point, I have two choices, and only two. I either agree with him 100% all the time, or there's a problem. And that's why he's grouchy today. I didn't agree with him and I solved a problem he couldn't solve on his own.

So, I'll keep to myself, offer soothing sounds and go through the day doing what I can to mollify. It's a people skill that comes in very handy at times like these.

Aside from that, I'll confess to being worried about something that's worried me occasionally.

My mother was profoundly deaf. Not from birth, but from the time I was about six or so. She had a degenerative hearing condition that resulted in her coming home one evening after a doctor's appointment, rushing through the door in tears, and slamming into the bedroom.

She had just been told that the hearing aids she had worn for as long as I could remember wouldn't work anymore. She was stone deaf and would either have to learn to sign, or to lip read.

She was a strong lady and thought about it. To make things easier for everyone else, she decided to learn to lip read. Then she did. The local hospital had courses and she went and we adjusted. A few years later, that remarkable woman went out and got a job - despite living in a time when people were handicapped, not 'challenged'. And she did well at that job, rising to supervisor, then department head, and staying at the same company for twenty years.

So, since I was little, I've been aware that sometimes body parts don't work as they're supposed to. I think a lot of other kids and people are aware of it, too, but it wasn't something I ever talked about with my friends. You know, the "which would you rather lose, your hearing or your eyesight?" It just wasn't a 'game' that we played.

I never could decide, but thought about the 'what if' scenarios and I think I would rather lose my hearing than my eyesight. And now I'm worried about my eyesight because yesterday I noticed a streak in my vision. I experimented and discovered that it's only in my left eye. I thought about it and realized it's inside my left eye. Puzzled some more and realized it might be blood in the vitreous humor - the gel that holds your eye's shape and allows you to see.

Several years ago, the husband of a friend of mine was found to have a partially detached retina. Because I am excessively near-sighted, I have been warned that as I get older, I may have retinal detachment and resulting blindness. Oh yay.

So, yesterday, with the streak in my vision, the filament tail that flailed every time I moved my eye, I began to worry. Is it blood? Is it because my retina is coming away? I am seeing "sparks" when I close my eyes, and lately I've noted a bright white concave arc at the bottom of my vision when I close my eyes. Occasionally, if I look up and to the left, quickly, I see a double arc that appears like a prism. It's worrisome because I need my eyes.

I need them a lot because I need them for work and I need them for my writing and it's scary to think there might be something going wrong. Of course I called the eye doctor. From there, I halfway (fully) expect to be referred to the Northern California Eye Institute in Santa Rosa for a full evaluation. But my appointment isn't until Tuesday, which means I get to worry today, tomorrow, Monday and a good part of Tuesday.

Last night, remembering my friend's husband's treatment, I slept with three pillows and my head elevated. In his case, he'd had air injected into the eyeball to hold the retina in place so it could heal. In mine, I'm not sure what it's going to do but even doing that makes me feel like I'm doing something while I wait for a determination.

Yeah. Getting older is no fun. I can think of fun, though, and I have plans for fun. I just almost cry when I think how far away fun seems sometimes. But this too shall pass, as these things do, and I'll be better and things will go on.

On Tuesday I'll find out what's going on with my eye. It's only one and I still have the other, so there's a silver lining. As for hubby, he'll calm down after a good sulk, and things will get back on track there, too.

But now I'm going to ask: can I be ten again? Just for a little while? Please?

Best~
Debbie Downer (aka Philippa)

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Things Are Better & How Dare They?

C'mon - with a title like: "A March Past of Kitchen Utensils" how can anyone say that classical music is boring or stuffy? That's the title of this piece:

It's by "Rafe" (NEVER-EVER CALL ME RALPH) Vaughn Williams.

And accompanying that little ditty, let me say my life is back on track after yesterday's annoyance. That's all it was, really.

As those things do, that series of small events seemed massively important at the time. Today, with things back on track and calm, it's in perspective. It was a series of little bothers and nothing more, and that's good. I can breathe and keep moving.

That brings me around to how funny people can be. Yesterday, for instance. Nothing was Earth shattering. No single issue was really all that big in the overall scheme of my life. But it was front and center and it was what I chose to focus my attentions on, and that, in the final analysis, was silly.

Then I looked up from my own bothers this morning, and I looked around and noted the bothers everyone else is dealing with. Some are much, much bigger and far more important than mine. I have to be grateful for my little bothers being little, and empathize with those dealing with worse. So yesterday I was silly and selfish and self-centered. Which is okay, too. We all get like that sometimes and as long as it is only sometimes, it's okay to be like that.

Then there are those who think it is all about them, all the time. Some people I've run into, and some people I see on television or elsewhere, seem to think that what they find endlessly fascinating fascinates everyone else, too. And it usually doesn't.

You've heard them, I'm sure. They're so prevalent any more that you may not even notice them, but if you pay attention, they're all over the place. They are those pundits who perpetually throw out all-encompassing "we" statements. Like when some pointy-head know-it-all is expounding upon their particular issue du jour and tosses the all inclusive, all encompassing "We" into the arena."We think..." or "We want..." or "We do..."

At that point I want to throw something hard and sharp at the talking head and demand, "Excuse me? How dare you presume to speak for me, and for others like me?"

For instance, I just Googled "white on black violence" to get an example of this kind of nonsense, and a bunch of stuff came up, including a blog post by one of these talking heads who presumes to talk to for me, too:

So let me state this plainly. White people, we are massively failing with our white fragility. When we are asked to do the very least in empathetic listening, we center entire conversations around our own feelings.

We argue with people of color about their lived experiences of racism. We say "not all white people!" and "all lives matter" and totally miss the point. We ask people of color to educate us, and to be "nice" about it. We talk about our good intentions. We bring up the times we were also treated badly.
Why? Because we can. As white people living in white supremacy we have the power to take that focus because society values our words more than those of people of color. It's hard to even recognize we're doing it. But it has to change. We have to be able to comprehend a point about racism without demanding that a person patiently hold our hand and explain it to us very delicately as to avoid hurting our feelings.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/amelia-shroyer/white-fragility-is-racial_b_8151054.html

This woman is an idiot. We don't think she's an idiot. I'm sure she's got a following who soak up that stuff, and slaver all over their computer screens and have to wipe it down when they're done. After all, she blogs for the Huffington Post. But I don't presume to speak for other people. I speak only for myself and I think she's an idiot because she is presuming to speak for me, too, to know what's in my mind, how I behave and the content of my character.

Now, before I go off on a rant, I'm going to turn this to something amusing to me. I hope it's amusing to you, too.

A personal example supporting the Concept of What Fascinates Someone Else Must, Ipso Facto, Also Fascinate Me, occurred when I was standing in the local grocery store the other day. I was buying a bunch of stuff for a working lunch for a group of colleagues. While I'm standing there, waiting for my turn to pay, this complete stranger walks up next to me, pulls a magazine off the rack (it was People or something), held it up in front of me and said, "Isn't this terrible?"

Glancing at the cover I saw some unknown person's photo, a splattering of "headlines" and nothing of any interest whatsoever. I looked at this woman, who was looking at me expectantly, as if there was no choice but for me to agree, and said, "Frankly, I don't care. I have my own life and that's enough for me."

After a brief flash of surprise, she lowered the magazine, put it back in the rack and said, "You know, you're right" as if that was some revelation from on high. Then she walked away. Whatever.

It's all just weird and silly and... human. Although, thinking of it, I wonder if herds of cows or sheep or horses or... whatever do stuff like this? Without the holding up part since they don't have opposable thumbs, of course. I'm sure they communicate in a way known to themselves. Do certain members of the species presume to communicate for everyone else? Hmmm. I feel a study coming on... Not by me, of course. I'm too busy thinking and talking and writing for myself. Someone else can take it up.

Now - I'm off to live my life and have happy times. I hope yours are, too!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories