I’ve been suffering from PMS: Parked Motorcycle Syndrome. With a record-breaking amount of snow on the ground, Boise has not been “bike-friendly” since November, and Jon and I both have been itching to get back on two wheels.
We’re finally having a thaw this week, and we’ve been watching the snow recede with ONE question in mind: when can we safely bring out the bike?! I’m actually optimistic that we might get to celebrate our anniversary (lucky 13th) with a RIDE. On that note, here’s today’s list: T-shirt sayings, the Biker Edition…
Four wheels move the body. Two wheels move the soul.
You never see a motorcycle parked outside a psychiatrist’s office.
Traveling in a car is like watching a film. Riding a motorcycle is like starring in it.
Bikers have more fun than people.
Biker hair, don’t care.
Some do drugs, some pop bottles; we solve our problems with wide open throttles.
Forget glass slippers. This princess wears motorcycle boots.
When life throws you a curve, lean into it.
Matching all your gear to your bike? You’re not a biker. You, Sir, are a Power Ranger.
Bikers don’t go gray. We turn chrome.
Therapy is expensive. Wind is cheap.
If money can’t buy happiness, explain motorcycles.
We’re kind of conditioned to believe that something “too good” can’t actually be true… So when I happen on something TRUE that’s awesome… Well, I just have to share it!
I know I’m not alone in relying on some prescriptions that are critical to my health (mental and otherwise), and I know I’m not alone in having some really expensive drugs in that line-up, and I know I’m not alone in having insufficient insurance to ease that burden… So I know I won’t be alone in my excitement at finding an actual, viable, lower-cost payment alternative! (And before I go further: no, I’m not getting paid by anyone to share this. I just couldn’t believe that I didn’t know about it till now, and I feel like everyone should!)
Jon and I just got new health insurance, and (glitch glitch) even though we met all the deadlines for coverage to start January 1, it mysteriously didn’t kick in until February 1. That was a nasty surprise when I was standing at the pharmacy on Jan 20 for a refill of my most important insanity-fixer, and a price tag of $665 (for the generic)! Now, we’re good with our budget—but that wasn’t IN the budget. I ended up going ten days without my meds (Jon watching intently for any sign that I might be going off the deep end) and showed up again, first thing on February 1, to find that even with insurance, we’d still owe $250. Ouch. More manageable for sure, but that’s still a real dent in our monthly budget, and that’s just one of my too-many meds.
So I retreated to consider options. I could fill the scrip and we’d adjust our budget; or I could ask for a partial fill to tide me over till I see my psych-doc next week, and ask if there’s an alternative that might be as effective but less expensive; or I could just wait another 7 days without the meds and then ask… Jon made the decision for me: he wasn’t going to have me go any longer without meds. Before heading back to the pharmacy, though, we thought we’d look for any online coupons that might apply… and Jon stumbled onto BlinkHealth.com.
I’m betting your reaction will match ours: this thing has got to be in the “too-good-to-be-true” category. Download the app, find your medication, pay (a LOT less) for it through the app, then show your phone at your pharmacy and walk away with your meds. The prescription we’d been discussing was listed at $91. Yeah, right. How the heck could that work?—sounds like a scam!
I’ve exorcised a number of demons through the use of ink. No surprise for a writer. But this week exorcism-by-ink took a different twist.
A couple years ago I foolishly married a person who turned out to be a liar and a cheat (and also already-married!) and unfortunately I had already let him scrawl his name across my arm with a tattoo gun before I figured all that out. That’s right, I let him sign me. (I’m sure there’s a whole psychology-chapter in that.) The annulment erased his name from my ID and social security card, but didn’t erase it from my arm.
So… I just got some new ink. His signature has been obliterated by a lava flow, which pretty perfectly mirrors how I feel about this.
That signature was a demon-claw still snagged in my skin. Today I feel… unsnagged. I loosed the demon’s hold with an application of ink.
And now… I’m turning to the more difficult application of ink, writing a “Step Four” I’ve been putting off, which should be the final step of loosing that particular demon’s hold. The fact that I’ve been putting it off is proof that I haven’t finished the exorcism yet.
I’m not just a procrastinator; I’m also a total klutz. Some years back,my coworkers actually gave me a t-shirt that said “I do all my own stunts” after I fell UP an escalator at a professional conference. Yup, and that’s me Sober…
That awkward moment when you try to do something dignified and fall over…
May the road rise up to meet you to lessen the blow from smacking your face on the way down.
I am why we can’t have nice things.
That dirty look you give the sidewalk when you turn around after tripping over it…
I’m the girl who will burst out laughing in dead silence at something that happened yesterday.
I don’t trip. I do random gravity checks.
The awkward moment when you pull the covers up and punch yourself in the face…
It takes skill to trip over flat surfaces.
I didn’t fall. The floor just needed a hug.
Don’t follow in my footsteps. I run into walls.
Lying on your back, texting, and dropping the phone on your face…
Today I will be classy and elegant. Or I will spill coffee on my shirt and trip over things.
Did I just fall? Nope, I attacked the floor backward with my awesome ninja skills.
If there were an award for falling up stairs, I’d probably trip over it!