When I left work at 10:30 p.m. last night (*sigh*), the plans I’d known better than to fully commit to had already started an hour earlier. So, what’s a girl to do on a fucked-up Friday night? How about taking a prescription refill to a 24-hour CVS Pharmacy? THAT’S always good for a laugh.
So my medicine is usually $20. But we switched insurance carriers, and I almost dropped dead on the spot when they charged me $80. I don’t care that I’m non-functional without these pills. (No, they’re not mind medication, just in case you’re asking. Because I know you are.)
But there ain’t no ‘script on the planet that’s worth that much money, so I left it there. Whee totally non-productive Friday night! Which means, whee gotta go back to the doc to see if there’s something my insurance DOES cover. And yes, I’ll buy the fucking $80 meds in the meantime. Luckily there’s a coupon on the Web site for $20 off. Now to just find a computer with a printer. …
In way better news, I spent the morning cleaning out the two top shelves in my closet. Which sounds like it would take 10 minutes but it involved me trying on no fewer than 30 pairs of jeans and jeanskirts. That’s all.
I work in corporate, buttoned-up America, so most of this shit has been collecting dust over the past four or five years. So I figured, OK, most of it is too big anyway, so it’s time to donate it. And besides, if I want to move when my lease is up (judging from my living situation, that’s debatable), I’d like to not have to carry the dead weight (speaking only of the clothing) to the next destination.
Well, I now have three full storage tubs filled with pants/skirts from my biggest size. That’s it — only one size is represented. And it probably only amounts to six clothing items but damn, that’s a lot of fabric per item. 😉
Actually, I did come across some items from “the old days” — things I kept on hand after the last time I donated clothes that I had “outgrown.” (Sigh again.) And they fit! In fact, they fit better than they did when I left Pittsburgh for the wilds of D.C. in 2002.
Most of the skirts are too short, and many are too trendy for a gal of my advancing (middle) age. But day-um, to be able to twirl around in mah hoochie-wear again? Priceless.
Now, to just rent a crane to haul these denim circus tents to the nearest women’s shelter. …