wyld_dandelyon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wyld_dandelyon) wrote2010-07-29 07:01 pm
wyld_dandelyon) wrote2010-07-29 07:01 pm
Entry tags:
The Wrong Kind of Distractions
My writing was interrupted on Sunday by three very loud bangs. Where I was sitting, all I can see out the window is sky, and not much of that. But My Angel saw a man standing like he was pointing a gun (big hand, small gun; she couldn’t actually see the gun or his face from her angle) on the sidewalk across the street. I called 911 while she changed from the ripped broomstick she was wearing (worn high, it covers plenty to keep neighbors happy, and it’s cooler than jeans and a t-shirt in this heat) into clothing suitable for talking with the police. Of course I ended up handing her the phone halfway through the process so she could describe the man she saw.
After the cops arrived, and there were no more gunshots, we went outside. I cleaned trash from our yard (rose bushes tend to snag trash that’s blowing in the wind, and the neighbor kids are slobs) until the police were ready to talk to Angel. She stood where the man had been, which didn’t help them recover any slugs. So they figured there weren’t any. After a police woman said they had no evidence whatsoever, I walked along the sidewalk, peering at the trees, hoping to find a bullet hole. I had no luck in the trees, but did find a fresh, new hole in one side of a metal fence post. The other side of the post was bowed out. The cops said the little splat of metal that fell out the bottom of the fencing was the bullet. Score one for me for finding it, but not much use for forensics, I’m sure.
I didn’t feel very good that evening; I don’t know if something I shouldn’t eat snuck into my diet somewhere or if it was stress. Either way, it wasn’t good for my attempt to return to writing. I probably should have set the story aside and blogged.
I’ve got just a couple days more than a month at this temp job now, and I’ve run out of the segment of Cobra where there’s government help to pay the premiums. I now have three months where I can get Cobra by paying the full amount, followed by—I don’t know. An individual policy? I was told that it would cost $2600+ per month to get an individual policy that matches my old policy. I can talk to the insurance agent and see if there’s any chance of getting an underwritten policy cheaper, but I have asthma and allergies and sleep apnea and some arthritis and degenerative tendonitis. I don’t have much belief in that possibility, but I should do it. I also should speak with the temp companies. The one I’m working for now may have a policy; the one I was working with before does, though I don’t know if I’ll still qualify to sign up come October. And I don’t know the quality or cost of the coverage. *sigh*.
It is worrisome, when I let myself think about it. And I mostly try not to think about it; to think of stories to write, paintings to paint, blog posts to do, beautiful and fun things to experience, create, and share.
But I’m getting to a point where I have to think about it. Soon I need to call an insurance agent, and spend way too much time filling out forms. And call the temp agencies to ask about their insurance plans. And I need to go see my allergist to get refills of my allergy meds next month. But at least I ordered a new CPAP mask, while I’m still on insurance where I finally met the deductible.
Where’s our healthcare reform? I all but had an offer for a permanent job, except the attorney chose not to offer knowing I had no insurance once the Cobra ran out, and being unable to get group health insurance for his employees since he didn’t have enough of them. (I think I’d better not get started on how “small-employer-friendly” the proposals the Republicans have been backing really are.)
But now I should return to writing.
After the cops arrived, and there were no more gunshots, we went outside. I cleaned trash from our yard (rose bushes tend to snag trash that’s blowing in the wind, and the neighbor kids are slobs) until the police were ready to talk to Angel. She stood where the man had been, which didn’t help them recover any slugs. So they figured there weren’t any. After a police woman said they had no evidence whatsoever, I walked along the sidewalk, peering at the trees, hoping to find a bullet hole. I had no luck in the trees, but did find a fresh, new hole in one side of a metal fence post. The other side of the post was bowed out. The cops said the little splat of metal that fell out the bottom of the fencing was the bullet. Score one for me for finding it, but not much use for forensics, I’m sure.
I didn’t feel very good that evening; I don’t know if something I shouldn’t eat snuck into my diet somewhere or if it was stress. Either way, it wasn’t good for my attempt to return to writing. I probably should have set the story aside and blogged.
I’ve got just a couple days more than a month at this temp job now, and I’ve run out of the segment of Cobra where there’s government help to pay the premiums. I now have three months where I can get Cobra by paying the full amount, followed by—I don’t know. An individual policy? I was told that it would cost $2600+ per month to get an individual policy that matches my old policy. I can talk to the insurance agent and see if there’s any chance of getting an underwritten policy cheaper, but I have asthma and allergies and sleep apnea and some arthritis and degenerative tendonitis. I don’t have much belief in that possibility, but I should do it. I also should speak with the temp companies. The one I’m working for now may have a policy; the one I was working with before does, though I don’t know if I’ll still qualify to sign up come October. And I don’t know the quality or cost of the coverage. *sigh*.
It is worrisome, when I let myself think about it. And I mostly try not to think about it; to think of stories to write, paintings to paint, blog posts to do, beautiful and fun things to experience, create, and share.
But I’m getting to a point where I have to think about it. Soon I need to call an insurance agent, and spend way too much time filling out forms. And call the temp agencies to ask about their insurance plans. And I need to go see my allergist to get refills of my allergy meds next month. But at least I ordered a new CPAP mask, while I’m still on insurance where I finally met the deductible.
Where’s our healthcare reform? I all but had an offer for a permanent job, except the attorney chose not to offer knowing I had no insurance once the Cobra ran out, and being unable to get group health insurance for his employees since he didn’t have enough of them. (I think I’d better not get started on how “small-employer-friendly” the proposals the Republicans have been backing really are.)
But now I should return to writing.
no subject
I've never had insurance until a couple of years ago. Now residents of Vermont can buy into the state's insurance plan. In some places, if you join the local chamber of commerce as a small business person (which writers and artist are) you can get reduced rates through the chamber--and the savings is worth the expence of joining.
no subject
And it was daylight, I wasn't alone, and the cops showed up quickly and in force.
I was more scared the time I was alone (in a different house), woke up because, well, I didn't know why, but I was spooked enough to grab my boken on the way downstairs, and had the guy who had been about to climb in my previously-closed living room window tell me, "shit, man, buy a gun!" When I called 911 and told them I didn't know if anyone else had already come in the house, it still took hours before one guy to show up. That was much scarier!
Still, I was definitely rattled while calling 911 on Sunday.
I don't think there's anything like the chamber of commerce insurance thing here, but I guess it's another thing to check into.
no subject
no subject
no subject
Health insurance is *such* a mess ... though even given that, I'm confused as to what the attorney was thinking.
no subject
But if I was right, it's too bad. I liked him, and the location. I'd have had an actual office, not just a cubicle. And Friday afternoons off. But because the Democrats didn't guarantee health insurance to Americans while they had the chance, he didn't offer.
no subject
*hugs* I'm sorry to hear about your insurance problems. I know it can be stressful and not something it's fun to deal with. Fingers crossed you're able to get something not as expensive that still does a decent job of covering you.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
I'm glad you and yours are ok for now.
no subject
Medical needs, however, predictably strike everyone, whether through violence or accident or disease. So, yeah.