I seem to be getting over my bad spell with COPD thanks to Symbicort (ask your doctor if it's right for you) or just the passage of time and the disappearance of whatever the hell it was that was turning my head into a snot factory. I was able to take the pulmonary function test without passing out. Yea!
Next week, Mrs Vache Folle and I are cruising to the Bahamas from the pier in Manhattan. Not bad for a marginally employed guy, huh? Speaking of being unemployed, I got my first rejection letter in this round of job hunting. I was beginning to think that those resumes I put out had gone into the void, so it was nice to discover that someone was looking at it. The letter was the standard "we were impressed, but not enough to call you, and we'll keep your resume on file in case our standards are ever significantly lowered in the future".
Our mortgage company reckons that our real estate taxes are doubling and is increasing the amount we have to put into escrow. We reckoned we would be OK in the housing crisis since our mortgages are fixed rate, but it turns out that our taxes are adjustable rate. Seriously, it's a problem for us, and we may have to move for not being able to afford $700 more per month. Most of it is for school taxes, but I won't get started on what I think of those mooching breeders! I have made my feelings known many times. I reckon we are some of the riff raff that the high taxes are supposed to drive out of the district!
My health insurance company finally wrote itself a letter telling itself that I was moving from one plan to another, so I no longer have to pay for drugs and doctors' visits out of pocket. I was surprised that my doctor charges only $85 for an office visit. My vet charges almost that much. And my drugs don't cost as much as I would have imagined.
I still haven't got out into the yard to work on the garden or the pond since it has been either too cold or too wet to do so. I have been playing fetch with the Salopian Terrier from time to time to get him in shape for the good weather. I can't wait for warmer weather so I can leave the goram door open instead of letting the dogs in and out a hundred times an evening. And I'm looking forward to slightly drier ground with thick grass so that there aren't muddy paw prints all over everywhere.
Steve Scott claims that he hasn't been bored in ten years. This ought to do it.
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