Word of the Day: vernissage I'm going to divorce JD and marry Shikamaru from Naruto. Come to think of it, maybe the reason I love Shikamaru is because he's like JD. They're both lazy and exceptionally intelligent...I take it back. Sorry, Shikamaru-kun, I'll stick with JD. JD and I decided, with certainty, that we're moving ASAP. We're planning on moving out to the country, damn it. I just moved into a city a few years ago, I'm not ready to give that up just now. But I'm okay with it, I truly am, just so long as JD's mother is not anywhere near us. Her priorities, as well as her finances, are completely skewed, and she cares for no one but herself. She went off to Houston, had her surgery, and has been cavorting around with her friends all month. I don't even thing she's called her son at all. She's supposed to be home today, which we found out from Laura last week. [I wrote this at work. She really is home, I heard her banging stuff in the kitchen and slamming her door earlier.] But enough villifying her. I've done that so much I'll only be repeating myself. Needless to say, we've been paying the bills without her checks that are supposedly coming 'next week' [it's always 'next week'], and we'll run out of money if things keep going the way they're going. That's why we'll be moving on 1 November if things go as planned. We know about how much our bills will be except electricity [Laura says she doesn't pay over $150 a month and she's got the AC running, the washer and dryer going, etc., etc. and we'll be moving out where she lives. Of course different units act differently, so we'll see when it really comes down to it.] and car insurance becasue we're on JD's mother's policy. This, however, will change since we'll be getting our own policy. I totaled everything up from every bill I can think of, and we'll have around $500 or so a month left over for food, gas, and everything else. Hopefully I haven't forgotten any bill because I'm happy at the moment with that $500. JD said the other day--'You know the best thing about having our own place?' 'Not living with your mother?' I chanced. 'Other than that,' he said. 'After Patrick goes to sleep, we can have sex anywhere we want.' Ah, yes! My little Patrick. Even when he's being bad, he's still so cute. I'll ask him to put something in the trash can--'Patrick, will you throw that away, please?' and he'll turn his body, cherishing that bit of paper or whatever he's got, furrow his brows like I'm asking him to give up his dreams, and say 'No' slowly, with a dip in tone at the end. And then he'll run away. He is, I have to say it, an Individual. He's no longer an extention of me or of JD, but he is Patrick. He likes water but not if it's being poured over his head. He absolutely loves animals, dogs especially. He says what he thinks and tells me his Truths, like the horses across the street are cows and his books do not belong on the bookshelf where JD and I patiently put them, but instead on the floor. 'You do with your things what you will, but leave mine to me,' he says in his eyes when he's sliding the books from the shelf in twos and threes, 'that's what you told me, eh?' He loves to go and check for the mail, and he absolutely loves his daddy. I got a letter from CHIP the other day saying Patrick's been denied and his insurance ended yesterday. There was no explaination as to why, just the standard, pull-the-rug-from-under-you, stark, cold notification missive reaffirming that it's my destiny to have my life security thrown into confusion. Now I have to call them to find out the exact reason for the denial, if I can appeal, and when I can reapply for him. Until then, or until I find something else, what if he gets sick? What if he gets hurt? What do I do? I'm so afraid of hospitals, not because people die there [I consider hospitals places of rebirth] but because things cost so much. It's like they have this ranged field around them that sucks out your money, and, thereby, your life, if you go there for help. I'm just so mortally terrified of something happening to any of us and I'll still be paying it off when I'm ninety, if I even live that long. Because of these things, my mother-in-law, our finances, our impending move, Patrick's loss of healthcare, I woke up three mornings ago with that horrendous chest pains. I woke up and was trying to get comfortable when I recognized the same tight, burning feeling close to my lower ribs. I kept calm, got up, walked around, noticed that it hurt less when I was standing than sitting or laying down, walked around some more, and decided to take a bath and get ready for work [this is around five in the morning]. I don't know if it was the posture I was in or the bath, but the pain went away slowly and hasn't been back since. And now I know, as a matter of fact, that I'm stressed out and need to take it easy [or easier]. Exactly how I'm supposed to do that, I don't know.