So apparently no one gives a rat's ass what I do for my 500th blog post. That's a bit depressing. A lot of things are a bit depressing, which wouldn't be so bad until they all add up into a giant rubberband ball of depressing that's about to crush me. And I thought I would have cake today.
The day starting out promising. As I said, the expected cake. But the lunch started too late, and I had to get Romy home for her nap and then she fell asleep in the car three minutes before we got home and I really didn't want to drive her around for over an hour so I woke her up and then of course she didn't go back to sleep. So there's that.
Then there's the torture of insurance. I told you already that I'm taking a year off of work, that COBRA would cost my family $23,000, that Blue Cross Blue Shield, the same assholes who would like to rob me for my COBRA, turned me and my husband down because we are apparently fools for seeing therapists and using our insurance for it. So we applied with United Healthcare, which we heard was more lenient, especially if we take a very high deductible, barebones policy (which I am all for now. I mean, why should I give my money to the insurance company just in case when I could just pay that money if and when something happens?). But now they are making us wait. And wait. Again, about the fucking therapy. Even though we told them we are more than willing to pay out of pocket. You know what? I better be in that goddamn therapy because how else am I going to handle situations like this? People screwing me and my family and subjecting us to humiliatingly personal phone interviews about every sordid detail of our physical and mental past. It can make a person crazy. I really don't know what I'll do if UHC turns us down, too. I'd rather go without than rely on the greed of others.
I think I'm going to go buy some cake now.