What the ?

At closer to 55 than 54, I believe I’ve arrived at a place where I am generally pretty positive.  I’ve married the man of my dreams.  We’re planning a move to the Pacific Northwest to be close to my best friend in the world.  I’m comfortable and really, the only thing getting me down lately is the same thing getting everyone else down.  Our country is owned by an absurdly wealthy few who are driving it into the ground for the rest of us.

And I guess, this WTF moment is brought to  you by 47 and his billionaire minions.  Under Biden, medical debt could not appear on a credit report.  Aside from medical bills, I have excellent credit.  But of course, the LoMaLG (lovers of money and little girls) feel entitled to every cent we have to spare.  I recently had someone tell me I was a parasite because I’m a teacher.  But I don’t even care about what comes out of internet trolls.  What I care about is that my dreams are threatened by this absolutely absurd system that we have in this country.  To be able to continue living, I require weekly infusions of immunoglobulin.  These infusions end up costing just under a half million dollars per year.  On social security, I make just over $16,000 per year.  Even when I was teaching full time, the most I ever made in a year, was $60,000 and some change. That people want to get rich off of the health of fellow Americans makes me want to vomit.

So that’s the first burr in my butt, today.

The second is that last night, I realized that I may run into an ex boyfriend at an event I’m planning to attend in November.  Of course, being nosey, I looked at his Social Media to see if he’d made any mention of being there.

He did not.

What he did have on there was a rant about how he resents having to work so hard only to have to pay taxes to pay for those who are too lazy to work as hard as he does.

Imagine a record scratch, here.

That man moved in with me just before I turned 30.  He was 32.  At the time, he worked for a local painter who did murals and faux finishes, and he made good money when he worked.  But he didn’t always work.  And when he did, he’d sometimes stop off at the pub on the way home, so he could buy a round for whoever was there at the time.  One time, he came home and his boss had paid him in cash and he “lost” it on the way home.

Mind you that in this time, I was paying the rent, the utilities, the groceries, the payment on his car, the insurance on his car, and his DUI fine.  (Yes, I used to be a door mat.  I thought if I loved him aggressively enough, he’d reciprocate).  I spent more than $600 having a custom cart made for him to take to renaissance fairs to sell some of his art.  He usually didn’t bother to get me anything, even when we specifically budgeted for it.

He married shortly after we broke up.  I thought it was appropriate that she had already raised a child with special needs, so taking him on might be easier for her.

Since they got together, he seems to be doing much better for himself.  As I understand it, he has a studio and he’s doing beautiful work.  But of all the people in this world to go on a self-righteous rant, don’t make me laugh!  I’ll just start coughing, and who knows what that will lead to!