Keep Calm & Carry On

With the world currently coming to an apocalyptic end (or so it seems, as basic staples such as toilet paper and hand sanitizer become all but non-existent), most reasonable, law-abiding humans have been cooped up at home under stay-at-home, safer-at-home, keep-your-ass-at-home, etc. orders by local or federal government. With the exception of those still required to leave the house on a daily basis for essential purposes (not to mention those unreasonable assholes who live by their own rules with no regard to others and keep frolicking about like they’re on some extended vacation), most of us haven’t seen the outside world in weeks.

I don’t have children, so I’m not currently stuck at home trying to carve out my own space to get some peace and quiet from my raging household. I have no need to barricade the door, chanting “Namast-ay the fuck away” over and over until it’s calming effect forces everyone around me to leave me alone. Although this mantra will definitely come in handy once this thing is all over.

I will say I commend anyone trying to work from home right now while also trying to help their kids with school work; as a teacher, I know how hard it can be to get my students to do their work at school, so I’m sure being home is making it that much more difficult (especially when there’s no threat of lunch detention). Side note: if you ARE one of those parents at home with your kids doing school work right now, be patient, be forgiving, be understanding. Of your kids, of their teachers, of yourself. These are uncharted waters, but we’ll navigate them together the best we can.

And while I don’t have that extra layer of stress built into my day, just because I’m childless doesn’t mean I’m exempt from the beginnings of cabin fever, that feeling of going stir crazy, the exhaustion and uncertainty and melancholy slowly seeping into my mental space and looking for a dark corner to hide and take hold of me. It’s important to keep ourselves in a routine as much as possible, but it’s also necessary to give ourselves down time to reflect, or simply take a break from the stress of it all. It’s okay to admit that we need that break. We’re all only human after all.

Find a new hobby to learn and love. Or pick back up with an old one, like me, with writing (good to know you again, old pal). Read lots of interesting books and articles, or even write some yourself. Find a new show to binge. Make a new recipe. Play a game. Teach yourself chess or checkers or back gammon (whatever the hell that is). Learn a magic trick that you’ll be able to show off to your friends and family once this is all over (or even show it off to them now, through Skype, FaceTime, Google Hangouts). Get involved with your community in a new way, whether it’s virtually through social platforms like Facebook, or by leaving sidewalk chalk messages to each other. This world is vast and exciting, and just because we’re stuck at home right now, doesn’t mean that vastness, that excitement has to diminish.

It can be hard but we have to remember this is temporary, that eventually, the quarantine orders will be lifted, a vaccine will be created, life will go on as normal as can be. And, it might be even harder to remember in hard times like these but none of us are alone. You might be physically alone, stuck by yourself in your house, unable to go out and socialize in the world, but there are so many ways to stay in touch with people nowadays. Reach out to your friends, your family, your neighbors. Don’t go through this alone.

Throughout this weird time in our world right now, you can still find balance and happiness. And, if you try really, really hard, you can master the hardest Sudoku in the book. I should know, because that’s exactly what I did. And I’ve never felt so accomplished.

Killer Sudoku. Literally the hardest. Could be wrong. But I’m going to pretend I’m not.

Stay strong my virtual friends! What are you all doing to combat the boredom/ fear/ stress/ anxiety/ uncertainty?

Health insurance companies can eat a turd

Warning: if you are sensitive to words like “fuck,” “fucking piece of shit,” “fucking assholes,” and “burn in hell,” turn away from this blog post now.

Health insurance is such a fucking scam and the fucking piece of shit assholes who run it deserve to burn in hell.

That is all.

But really, why is it that something that’s supposed to “help” your life actually makes it worse? I swear, all the times I was without insurance were so much better than this crock of horse manure.

For starters, I hate when companies decide to help their bottom line by changing health providers. I was perfectly fine and dandy with my Aetna plan until someone at my company (just the fact that a school teacher has to refer to her place of employment as a “company” says something about what’s coming next) decided “hey! let’s save money by screwing over our employees and switching insurance providers.” Cool, thank you for that.

Now I’m sure you’re thinking, “well, why don’t you just elect to get healthcare outside of your employer?” In which case, you are an asshole, please see yourself out now. Having watched friends and family “elect” through the open marketplace because they had no option to get coverage through their jobs, I would never choose that option, and in fact, would never wish it upon my worst enemy. Well, maybe just some of them.

Finding health coverage on your own is even more ridonkulous than electing through your employer, with plans starting somewhere around the $300/month range (at least based on my boyfriend and best friend’s experiences). Honestly, what kind of jack monkey would voluntarily sign up for that? Not me, idiots.

So fine. I refuse to pay more than my $90/month premium, because ultimately my goal is to spend the least amount on healthcare as possible. Isn’t that everyone’s goal? If it isn’t, I swear you’re all doing it wrong.

But what I can’t wrap my head around is why these asshole conglomerates have the right to just up and change my plan halfway through the year. Without telling me. I renew every August, so someone please tell me what the fuck they’re doing changing my coverage in January?! My coverage is not by calendar year, ass hats. Which just means I’ll probably see yet another change come August when it actually does renew. Fantastic.

And don’t forget the seizure-inducing deductibles and out-of-pocket maximums, which are always so insanely high you’ll never actually meet them, so your insurance never has to actually do their job. Actual letter from insurance companies: “Dear so-and-so, here’s your new inflated yearly deductible. Enjoy paying out the ass towards this unreachable goal. And don’t bother asking for help until you’ve reached it. Oh and also, if you get super close to meeting it by the end of the year, but fall short, don’t worry, we’ll wipe the slate clean for you to start all over and try again next year. Full of love, and all your money, your insurance providers.” So kind of them.

Moreover, I can’t justify charging hard-working people more money for prescriptions that are, more or less, for life-threatening (or at least debilitating) health problems. I realize the generic is 1/5 the price, jerk wad; there’s a reason I’m not taking the generic! What, you think I’m some sort of prescription snob? Fuck you. Give me my prescriptions and stop taking all my money. Because more than anything, I get incredibly pissed when unexpected costs force me to move money out of my savings account. So I really can’t stand you right now, Blue Cross of Florida. You piece of garbage. Fuck.

And okay, fine, I get it. Capitalism. They can do whatever they want and fuck the rest of us. But I don’t really get it, I guess because I have a soul and they never will. But guess what else? Freedom of speech, biotch. So I’ll drop as many f-bombs about your stupid, shitty, sucky, customer-service-lacking, disregard-for-anyone-but-themselves, couldn’t-give-a-crap-about-the-middle-class company as I want.

You can tell my vocabulary really goes out the window when I’m angry, huh?

Oats Overnight seems like an easy health win to me

I hate to be one of those people who gets taken in by advertisements and the latest trend, but recently I’ve been taken in by advertisements and the latest trend: overnight oats.

Since Facebook is the devil, and constantly listens in on my private conversations and scans my Google search history to curate Julia-specific ads to blast me with every time I scan my newsfeed, I’ve been getting a lot of ads recently for super foods and the like. With this thyroid issue seemingly never getting any better, I figured I’d do what I could to help my body along to wellness by changing the foods I eat and the ways I eat them.

Within the slew of annoying advertisements, I kept seeing the same short video for Oats Overnight. You know, that video where the woman mixes up her oats the night before and then emerges the next morning ready for work, smiling and drinking her oats as she walks out the front door (which she then proceeds to leave wide open…). Yeah, that one.

While I’m certainly not the type of person to simply succumb to good advertising immediately, I did do some research into these mysterious “overnight” oats (like what makes them “overnight”? why can’t I just eat some regular oats?) and decided that the health benefits were enough to satisfy the curiosity I had to try the hype. So I logged on to Amazon, placed my order, and not-so-patiently waited for the box to arrive in the mail. Side note: the delivery guy actually delivered them to my neighbor by mistake, who opened the package without reading the name, and kindly knocked on the door to explain why the package was open. What a stand-up guy. My neighbor, not the delivery guy. Screw that guy, he should be fired for his incompetence. Just kidding. Not really.

Anyway, last night, I filled my Blender Bottle with the required amount of milk (which seemed like a ton when I poured it in, but I guess 8oz is only really a glassful), poured my choice of oats in (between the chocolate peanut butter banana, strawberries & cream, and green apple cinnamon, I decided to first try the strawberries & cream), shook it up a bit, and placed it ever-so-gently in the fridge to let it “activate” overnight. Whatever that means. This morning, in addition to my eggs, I got to try my first cup of oats overnight.

First, I had to get past the fact that I was drinking the oats, instead of eating them with a spoon, as I’d done all my life. It’s still a weird concept to me, but I didn’t hate it. I’ve heard you can warm them up in the microwave to eat them hot, and make them a bit thicker, but honestly, it was fun slurping them out of a bottle.

Next, I had to contend with the amount of milk I was consuming. I don’t really like to drink milk that much, but luckily these oats can be mixed with a milk substitute. Now I just have to convince myself to like Almond Milk.

The last and probably only real hangup I have about these oats is the expense. The starter pack, which included 3 packs of oats and the Blender Bottle, was $18, which I thought was reasonable, since it came with the reusable bottle. But now that I have the bottle, the smallest pack they have is a 12-pack for $45. That’s almost $4 a pack (and I’ve already checked, the price is the same whether you order direct from their website, or from Amazon). Luckily, I noticed I could really only “eat” about half the bottle for breakfast, so I still had half a bottle left, which I just finished consuming as an afternoon snack. So the packs seems to yield about two servings; whether I prepare the whole thing at once, or just use half the oats with half the milk, I think I’ll be able to stretch each pack into two meals, making it cost about $2 per serving. Those numbers I can get on board with. I also like the idea of having a healthy meal/snack option ready for me as I leave for work. I can envision myself eating half the oats with my typical eggs & gluten-free bagel breakfast, and saving the other half for a mid-day snack at work. I can just pop it in my mini-fridge in my classroom, and have zero prep when I’m dying of hunger halfway through classes and can’t stop teaching to sit and eat a snack. #teacherproblems

And who knows, with all the promised health benefits, maybe I’ll also start feeling like a human again soon. Not that I expect my life to become glamorous and elegant overnight like the woman’s in the commercial. But hey, if I keep eating these oats, I’m one step closer.

I’m so tired of being tired

I’m so tired.

And not just the tired I feel from my broken thyroid that refuses to work, the tired that refuses to let me go back to yoga, the tired that forces me to bed earlier than an old lady three times my age. The tired I’m sad to say has become my norm. No, I’m more tired than that. I’m tired from putting up a front, tired from plastering on a somewhat happy face everyday so the people around me don’t have to face my suffering, too. I’m tired from pretending I’m alright just so everyone else can keep living in peaceful oblivion.

And I’m tired of the false hope. I’m tired of doctors telling me I’ll get there, that things will be normal again soon. I don’t even remember the last time I felt normal. I’m tired of the people around me telling me there are worse things, of minimizing my pain, my suffering, when they don’t really know what it’s like. I’m tired of hearing “it will get better soon, just be patient.” I’m tired of being patient. I’m tired of having to smile and nod and pretend I agree. I’m tired of acting like I can see the light at the end of this dank, dirty, decrepit tunnel that I feel like I’ve been stuck in for ages. I’m tired of the uncertainty that greets me every morning when I wake. Of wondering whether today will be a “good day” or not. Of wondering whether I’ll be able to function or if I’ll have to make up some excuse why I can’t get out of bed.

And I’m tired for having to make those excuses. Why I can’t do certain things. Why I’m always on edge, why I snap so easily. Why I’m not the same person I used to be. Most days I don’t even remember who that girl even was.

And I’m tired of the headaches, the nausea, the dizziness, the lightheadness, the depression, the anxiety, the tremors that wrack my body constantly, every moment when my heart stops beating and threatens not to start again. I’m tired of the ringing in my ears that won’t ever let me know peace and quiet. I’m tired of not even knowing my own body anymore.

And I’m tired of feeling like I’m not allowed to complain. Because yes, there are worse things than this. I’m not trying to play the victim. I don’t want to be all “woe is me.” But the point is, at 29 years of age, with a relatively healthy diet and lifestyle, being someone who doesn’t smoke and doesn’t drink and who exercises (as much as my tired body will allow) and who drinks plenty of water and gets plenty of sleep and eats plenty of nutrients, I shouldn’t have to deal with any of this. I’ve done everything right and have nothing to show for it; I shouldn’t have to exist in a way that makes me feel like I’m not even existing at all.

Everyday I feel the facade I’ve put up, the dam I’ve built to hold back all of my poison, cracking and threatening to unleash all of my evil in a tidal wave of crushing force. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on. I don’t know how much longer until the stress and exhaustion of pretending catches up to me and forces my body to self-implode.

Because at the end of the day, I’m just so tired of being tired.

I’ll just pretend I never wanted to buy a home, anyway

Home buying is a bitch.

Without ever having experienced the complicated process of buying a home before, I don’t have much first-hand experience to base my judgments off of. I acknowledge that fact. And I knew going in this wouldn’t be a walk in the park. I anticipated ups and downs and frustrations and stress. But I never expected buying our first home would be this much of a giant pain in the ass. Like, I just want to give up and never buy a home at this point.

Although Kevin and I have technically been on the hunt for over a year, last year when we put an offer in on a house we really loved (and it got accepted immediately, mind you), the timing just wasn’t right financially. So, while I’m grateful we were able to back out without consequence, it only adds to my frustration that we haven’t been able to finalize a sale on anything now that we’re truly ready.

I realize our two biggest hurdles are location and price; we do have a budget, since we are doing this 100% on our own with no help from family or friends (and I’d like to refrain from ending up house poor). We have a certain lifestyle we’re accustomed to and I’d like to maintain it, so it’s important we stay within a specific price range. Our location preference is also incredibly small; we have specific wants when it comes to where the house is, and it’s a desirable part of Tarpon near downtown that we want to stay in, so naturally it will be competitive. I get that both of these factors make our window of options much smaller, and increase the competition. But c’mon, it shouldn’t be this difficult.

Here’s a horrible math word problem to sum up our house-buying experience thus far:

Over the last three to four months, realtor Gail has emailed Kevin and Julia information on roughly a dozen houses for sale that meet their unique criteria. In the span of two months, realtor Gail has shown Kevin and Julia roughly half a dozen houses that they were interested in buying. Within the last month, Kevin and Julia have made reasonable offers at, or close to, asking price on three of those six houses. Of those three offers, two of the three sellers accepted higher and/or cash offers from other buyers. The third seller decided to pull her house off the market entirely. If Kevin and Julia continue their rate of house-hunting and offer-making, how many months will it take before they just give up and buy a condo instead?

Our latest rejection. I didn’t want to buy this gorgeous house, anyway. Stupid, gorgeous house. I hate you. Stop being so perfect.

The only thing I can keep thinking and wondering to myself while I try not to lose my mind is: why does it seem like no one else in the history of home buying has ever had this many obstacles, or hit this many brick walls, especially in such a short period of time? I’m truly confused why Kevin and I, two level-headed and financially qualified adults, cannot buy a house to save our lives. It’s mind-blowing to me. I blame HGTV and their house-hunting shows for making it look so easy peasy. They all suck and I hate everything.

And I might add that, if my credit score takes one more hit because we need yet another credit pull to prove we can (still) pay for a house, I’m going to burn down the next house we don’t get to buy. That’ll show ’em. Whoever “they” are.