A metaphor

This is like one of my tangents while teaching, except better - because I can review it for grammar, glory in its inappropriateness, and hope that no one hears.

Let me tell you a story about my cat, Maggie. She is a darling little lady, my siamese daughter. But she has a sensitive stomach. The back story there is for another day; but suffice it to say that sometimes wet food doesn't agree with her stomach. The result is that she vomits. And vomits. And vomits. It always starts out the same - I go for the papertowels and the giant bottle of Folex. Before I can finish the first mess, she has thrown up again; this goes on until, usually, as I'm scrubbing away, I can hear her throwing up in an entirely different room.

Today, as I was listening and scrubbing, it struck me that this is an apt metaphor for my life. Maybe I'm just bitter because today, I found out that my mortgage loan, which was preapproved, isn't worth shit because they'll no longer offer anyone 100% financing. Which means no house. Which left me cursing and inches from a crying jag. The guy on the phone was very nice - and I know it's not his fault that squatters and trailer trash have ruined the housing market for the rest of us decent but not filthy rich would-be buyers - but he kept suggesting that one way to put 5% or more down on a home would be through a "gift." I'm not sure what kind of unicorns and other mythical beasts he converses with; but if I had the means - through some kind of family wealth or otherwise - to put a down payment, that would have been my plan from day one.

Then I got home to find a message from my car insurance company about an accident claim. And before you think something along the lines of "you've made your bed," the claim is from an accident that happened in Florida. Someone hit my rental car the day I was leaving - hit it during the night and was nowhere to be found. Being the good citizen I am, I reported it. I was delighted to find karma had come home to roost - my master card, on which I'd charged the rental, covers up to your deductible for such a situation. Hooray! I thought. Nice gals don't always get screwed. Not so, apparently. Even though it was only the bumper, the rental car company can charge me directly for "loss of use," as well as about 18 other things, including a decrease in value (how repairing a cracked bumper by replacing it decreases value is beyond me). So, guess what? They have charged me - just shy of $2,000 - beyond the $1,000 master card already paid, and beyond the nearly $300 my insurance company sent them.

I also just got a bill from the hospital - from a stay in December. I paid a small amount, surprisingly small, in January; but I wrongly assumed that, since I have health insurance and had more than met my deductible at the time of my little near-death experience, the payment was a co-pay. Not so. Surprise! Tack on another two grand to the fun fund.

And guess what? I need two new front tires.

Know what else? Health insurance also declined to pay more than $600 for care I had to have at the, you know, girl doctor. That's not the kind of care you skimp on, and, so, here I am, paying out the nose.

I think I hear my life throwing up down the hall. In better news, my sister's surgery went well today; so I think today has been worth the cost of its paper towels.