I was part of a movement of "dinosaur moms" when I lived in Maryland (Astrodon Johnstoni is the Maryland state dinosaur.) Which is nothing more than this -- dinosaur moms delight in the half-feral nature of the beasties they parent, even as they whisper Shakespeare and Kierkegaard in their ears at night.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
$1.99 for a fax
Today my Jones did not go to school because he was still semi-comatose from the heavy-duty antibiotics his body is processing in its battle against the death bug he brought home last week. No doubt the fault of some parent dosing his kid up with aspirin and tossing him back in the classroom, hoping nobody would notice.
This bug has laid waste to the entire family, save Girl (knock wood). Every day I wake up with an entirely new symptom. Yesterday it was muscle pain. Today it’s sore throat. But I thought to take a Tylenol when I woke in the middle of the night (recurring hideous dream where I get caught in flagrante with various unsavory characters in my life), so it’s under control at the crack of dawn, when I must rouse to put Girl on the bus and begin my journey to Eloy, a monotonous hour and a half straight shot from my home.
I have court at the immigration detention center. I do the dead man walking march past the sequentially locking doors, the barbed wire, the surrender of my id, the marking on my hand in invisible ink, the guard escort. But that was actually really neat, being my first detention court experience. And my guy got what he needed, which was just a lower bond so that he could get back to his family and his other lawyer in San Francisco.
The immigration detention center is down a long gravel road out with the tumbleweeds with no cars in sight. And to top it, there is a dangerous felon on the loose from the nearby county facility. So naturally I blow out a tire. And when I say blow out, I mean the rim was irreparable. And there’s noone, so I go to fix the tire. And I actually manage fairly well, so butch in my sandals and skirt working those lug nuts. So that was actually really neat.
So it hurts to pay for the new tire and rim, but what are ya gonna do? But then I decide to bail on going into the office, because it’s all the way north and I’ve just come from all the way south and I’m sick and Jones is sick and I’ve had a day. But that’s just an excuse because I haven’t had a day.
My day’s been fine. I’m fine. I have a job that allows me the flexibility to bail sometimes. That in itself is pretty wonderful. I’m sick, but I’m getting over it. I’ve got health insurance. And I mean, after all, I’m not SICK sick. Court, jail, changing a tire – not really all that stressful. Paying for the tire sucked, but what are ya gonna do? Plus, there’s a Sonic Burger by the tire place and I got a strawberry limeade (My absolute fave, and good on the throat – Tylenol wearing off now). This is what being in your thirties is, I muse, trying in vain to get strawberry up my straw and wishing I’d gotten the Route 44. Nothing riles you.
And then I remember that I still need to fax the thing about the bond to the San Francisco lawyer. And since I’m not going into the office, I need to go to the Postnet…
So, correction. Things still rile me. I am totally riled right now. Over paying $1.99 for a fax.