There's stress, there's worry and soon (I've just been informed) there will be no more Netflix. And no more cable. And no more phone calls to Jamaican psychics who have yet to give me the correct lotto numbers. But they tell me that only the true believers can get the true vision of the future and it is my fault that 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, 42 have not hit yet.
We have also cut out going out to have any fun at all. This is a must as we are trying to pump up the savings as much as possible. This has made for a rough holidays.
We have been spending alot of time at home.
We are trying to keep our spirits up though and continue to be productive in a non-financial way.
My Lady Gaga "Bad Romance" routine is almost done. Little Hoss is in charge of costumes. Bubba Hoss has got lights and set design.
We have exactly 5 fan blades on the ceiling fan in the living room. They are very dirty.
We had a great time laughing at my only response from the 25 resumes that I sent out once we found out that Hossmom was being laid off. It came on my birthday. It was our only piece of mail. Hi universe, I'm Hoss. Please feel free to rub it in a bit.
But there was some goodness to come out of all this. We got to answer a very important question. How many bandaids should a normal person have in the house? We came up with the answer of 20. 8 Dora brand band aids, 8 Cars brand band aids, and 4 Spiderman because Dad hurts himself to.
We got to do this because when Hossmom loses her job in Feb, we also lose our health flex account. That is money that we don't get back and goes back to the company. That's about 600 bucks that the company that laid off my wife would get. That's our money that we put in there every year because let's be honest, injuries happen in this house (1 kidney stone, 2 dislocated elbows, 1 severe case of heartburn just to name a few) That's not going to work. Nope, not at all.
Shopping spree time.
The flex account can only be spent on health related things. We had a list of what was acceptable. A very long and big list. We went apeshit. On my birthday.
20 boxes of bandaids. 2 chemical heating pads. Enough ace bandages to rewrap King Tut. You have no idea how fun this was.
3 very large economy size containers of Hydrogen Peroxide. There are a lot of cuts and scrapes in this house. A new fancy thermometer that takes your temperature and then picks up the phone and calls your mom for you. A buttload of alcohol wipes for when the money runs out and the toilet wine isn't ready yet.
Enough guaze pads to re-carpet the entire downstairs. So much cloth tape that we have begun braiding it into rope. We are playing Tarzan from one of the 5 fan blades in the living room. Me Jane.
A splint because you know, I'm the father of Little Hoss. It's going to happen, sooner or later. We all know it.
Ointment, all kinds of ointment. Athlete's foot, ringworm, skin rashes, jock itch. If they make an ointment for it, I'm pretty sure that I now own several tubes of it. I have a working theory that if I combine all the ointments in one big vat and let it harden and then make a sculpture and get a grant. I'll call it "Blue Star Awesome." I'll be famous.
Go ahead, name a medical supply that they sell at the pharmacy. We got it.
Well, not condoms. Those aren't covered and I think it's a little to late to help me now.
It was a fun day but one that we had to cut short. Hossmom got a phone call.
Hossmom got a new job. That day. She gets a raise. And a bonus. She still gets her severance to.
What do I get? I get the most awesome first aid kit you've ever seen. It's time to take this Lady Gaga routine up a notch baby.