Thursday’s Money Menu 10 12 23

Money spent: $56.47 (Soda, Utilities, dinner at my favorite neighborhood restaurant)

Technology is helping with the grading. So that’s a good thing. First week of my regular classes seem okay. Getting back on a regular schedule, because having “make up” work on the weekends sort of throws me off. But tomorrow is Friday and I’m covering everything I want to cover.

I also saw that my favorite neighborhood restaurant is open again. It’s the place with the really good broth. They usually bring me a large bowl of it because I like it so much. But tonight, it wasn’t as good somehow, and my beef and peppers over rice wasn’t as beefy as it normally is.

It was still nice to go there though.

Wednesday’s Money Menu 10 11 23 or “It Can’t Be True, Mary Lou!”

Money spent: $48.85 (food, transportation, roasting pans, protein bars, chips Subway sandwich)

Days until payday: Three or four

Went a bit bonkers today financially speaking. The transportation costs did me in, as I was sort of in a hurry and didn’t want to take the bus, the subway, or walk anywhere.

Leaky Compost Bin

Trying to clean up my balcony. My compost bin has drain holes and nothing under it to contain the moisture, so I bought roasting pans. It’s the cheapest solution.

However, it seems futile, as all of my tomato plants are dying. They start out okay, but I think there must be something going on with the soil. So I’m getting rid of it, and probably either throwing the containers out, or repurposing them. I’m afraid I won’t be able to wash whatever fungus is lurking in the containers. Then the next round of tomato plants will be ruined too.

Peppers this Season?

It’s sort of ironic—my plants are not really thriving here. Sort of a metaphor for my life. My pepper plants look great—but the blossoms are not getting pollenated or whatever the bees are supposed to do to them. So I’m not sure if I’ll even get peppers this season.

After my 13-hour day, I treated myself to sleeping late and it was awesome.

Mary Lou Retton is Fighting for her Life

However, I was a bit shocked to discover Mary Lou Retton is fighting for her life. I’m just a year older than she is. And yes, I remember the 1984 Olympics. Gymnastics was something I always wanted to do, but never did. I always wanted to ice skate too. Strangely, my mother allowed me to take riding lessons. Those were way more dangerous than skating.

Anyway, it’s always a bit unnerving to discover someone your age died, or is dying. From what I’ve read it’s a rare form of pneumonia. Some speculate it’s Covid. I’ve known Retton was a conservative for a long time, but discovering someone worth millions didn’t have life insurance is puzzling. Surely she could have afforded some great health care plans, right? Private ones too, none of that commie ObamaCare stuff, right?

Because I wonder.

Mary Lou and Larry Nassar

Mary Lou voted against legislation to protect gymnasts after the Larry Nassar scandal, and she’s got that, “by God, I did it, everyone else can do it too” mentality of taking care of one’s self and battling through pain and setbacks. Like a lot of people, they are heartless and don’t realize that there ARE some people in this world who genuinely CAN’T take care of themselves, or afford health insurance. Some work their asses off too—not as spokespersons, but fast-food workers, retail workers, restaurant workers. These so-called “Essential” workers who get bottom of the barrel pay, because hey, it’s nice to be wanted and needed, right?

Maybe there is another side to this story—how a beloved athlete worth millions doesn’t have health insurance. A part-time McDonald’s worker not having healthcare I can understand. Working at a job with sub-par health insurance I can understand. But Mary Lou Fucking Retton?

Go Fund Me to the Rescue?

It’s rather ironic that her daughters are asking for help on crowdsourcing sites like Go Fund Me.. Isn’t that for poor people who didn’t plan well?

Okay, I’m being snarky. But something just doesn’t seem right. Did she not buy an ObamaCare plan because of the cost? Because it’s ObamaCare and she’s a conservative? It just doesn’t make sense someone that wealthy wouldn’t have some sort of plan.

But… whatever. I won’t be sending a donation because I’m not in great financial shape either. And someone who owns a house valued in the millions refusing to pay for health insurance has fucked-up priorities. She can afford it.

There are millions who cannot.

Tuesday’s Money Menu 10 10 23

Money spent: $15.40 (transportation, junk food)

Days until payday: five or six.

Just a 13-hour-day today, plus a writing training session at midnight. Commiserated with a fellow teacher; he’s having a more difficult time than I am. Nice to chat with him. He and his wife and baby girl might move to Xiamen, and that would be great. I’ve been chatting with him for years; he’s wanted to come over here for a while now, but it hasn’t gotten off to a very good start.

Still, it’s nice to have someone here who knows how it IS.

Sunday’s Money Menu 10 8 23

Money spent: $8.74 (transportation and food)

Days until payday: 7 or 8.

It’s been almost 20 years now since you’ve been gone. The glue vanished when you did, brother and sister being driven further apart. Figuratively, as well as literally.

I knew it would happen. But I tried to make you well. Tried to postpone death and maybe if you’d been wealthier, it might have worked.

I miss you. Maybe I stayed a kid way longer than I should have, but shit, childhood was great. Growing up sucked. And I can’t adult well. Thanks for not shoving me out of the house on graduation night. I hear stories about that, and it makes me think my upbringing was say more European than American.

I wish Elizabeth had lived. I’d like to think she would have had a better life than I did.

I dream about you sometimes. What’s strange is that you’re alive, you’re just not there. Like if I dream I’m home, you are at the grocery store or something. There, but not there.

Sometimes I’ll dream about you and dad. You guys are renovating the house or something. I’m excited about a bigger house but wonder how you’ll be able to afford it. Not surprisingly, the house is in the process of renovation, I never see the end result.

The family doesn’t talk to me any more. You might be upset about that. You were so tough, so strong, but tenderhearted and generous You wouldn’t recognize your son anymore. It’s a shame. I don’t talk to him because I don’t like yelling. People don’t listen to me. They just don’t. I have to yell and scream at them sometimes. Then they don’t want to be my friend anymore. That’s okay. Why would I want to be friends with people who don’t listen to me?

The usual money problems have remained. I sometimes think I am carrying on you and dad’s legacy. I’m glad you finally paid off dad’s bills.

I’m really tired and tomorrow I have three classes, one of them starting at 8:20 a.m. I’m teaching, like you suggested, but it isn’t quite the way I envisioned it. Still, my new students are truly new—and yesterday and today, class was fun. I hope I can keep up the momentum.

I love you mom. There’s more to say, but I just can’t.