Policies

One of the many impacts of divorce/separations is the splitting of the health insurance. As of January 1, I was offically let go from Matt’s policy. this has meant that for the past 31+ days I have been walking around 100% unisured. In that time, if I had twisted my knee, gotten in a car crash, fallen down stairs,etc… financial ruin would have come to forever roost in my head and home. So a couple of daysago I got off my ass, called around and found a policy that will host me until June 1st when the ski company will host me and my health maladies for as long as I agree to give them my winters.
I actually had a rather hard time locating a company willing to extend a temporary policy. There must not be much of an incentive for the insurance person to write up such a measely deal. But find one I did, and when I met with my newest friend Cliff a few afternoons ago I realized just why he was willing to be my pal. First of all his son met me at the door of the agency and asked me if I was in the radio business. “No?’ he said, shaking his head. “That’s a darn shame. You have the most beautiful voice I have ever heard.” Donning my most sultry of phone voices, I replied, “I hear that alot. But I’m just a mom. I enjoy making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches above all else.” I left him with that on his mind and went off to meet with his father to talk health insurance.
Upon entering his his office I was privy to the swirling screensaver message on his desktop: “Jesus loves us all. We will one day have the gift to ascend to His home and live forever in peace.” Or something like that. Then a quick glance to the other wall treated me to autographed pictures of both George Sr. and the younger W. Dear fucking God, I was in the WRONG office. But I was cornered. Where else was I to find a temporary policy? So I sat through about 30 minutes of conservative right wing hoo-ha until we had signed the papers and I had given him a check. I wrote it for the full amount to cover the next four months simply for the fact that I will not have to speak to him ever again.
Now I am sick as a dog and wishing to the heavens that I could feel better. Since I met with Cliff I have been alternately sweating hot or shivering cold. I want to barf at the mere thought of food. Sleep is my best friend. Is there some sort of karmic message here? If I had embraced Cliff’s Republican ways would I have been spared this current hell? It has me wondering.