Signs A Person Is Broke

In light of Baxter getting sick, and my current eye infection/almost blindness, my typically low funds have plummeted to couch digging to afford the raemen noodles. While I was at work today, Damien stopped in so he could pick up my eye drop prescription. I handed him my credit card and said, "This may get rejected, but still, try it first. If it does, here's my debit card."

After he left, I started thinking. Plus, you guys know how much I love making lists, SO, with no further rambling, here is a quick list of

Signs that a Person is Broke:

*They pay their bill with more than one form of payment
You know that person who says, "Okay, I'd like to pay $1.88 in cash, and then $2 on this card, and $15.78 on this card"? Well, chances are there's not much on either card. And the cash they're paying with was probably a loan from a friend or from returning bottles for five cents.

*Their items at the store consist of...
A bag of dog food. Only.

Yep. This was my car. On the way to work :)

*Gas Light
Yea...that's been on for the last twenty miles. I think I have another twenty in me.

*At the gas station, their car is sitting beside a gas pump.
While the owner is inside, crying, shaking a credit card in front of them.
Chances are this person could use some help. (Lord knows I've been this person and kind strangers have helped me get home!)

*Bills
Oh, that was supposed to be paid two weeks ago? And my car needs registered? And my licence, too? Yea..well...this 18 pack of beer is only $10.

*Bottle Return
In Michigan and Maine, there are lovely things called Bottle Deposits. In Maine you get at least five cents for just about any bottle you can find; water, soda, orange juice, etc. In Michigan, it's soda and beer. AND it's TEN cents! Poor people collect bottles from friends. Desperate people collect bottles from the trash.

From Baxter's yard sale. We raised almost $400!

*Yard Sales
Oh, this old thing? I've had it forever. (I bought it yesterday.) It was just collecting dust. (I really wanted it.) I never used it. (I used it every day.) Oh, you'll pay $2? (It's worth at least $70, but I'm desperate!)

*Neglecting Health
A lot of people aren't insured, which means when they get sick, they tough it out. They go into work hacking, get their fellow employees sick, and continue on. If their eye gets infected for over a month, they'll pass it off and say, "It'll heal." Or if they fall in a snowboarding accident and crack their head, they won't get their concussion looked at by a professional. 

So there you have it, a small list of things we broke people do. You can spot us a mile away. But just because we're broke doesn't mean we aren't working toward bigger and better things!

Sloppy Sunday

There are marquee boards in Hell. They're engulfed in flames, centered in unbearable sunlight, and the letters will never stick to the pole.

I don't like sunlight.

A portion of my job ensures that this is my weekly nightmare. Because I haven't had money for a new set of contacts, I've been saving my vision for snowboarding and regularly wearing my glasses. Which means that because the marquee board is put in such a way the sunlight goes straight into my unprotected eyeballs, I have a tendency to leave my glasses in my car and swap em for sunglasses. Sure, I can't see while I change the sales, but I don't feel completely blinded.

On Sloppy Sunday, I did this, as I usually do. After dropping a million letters (because they don't in fact stick to the demonic pole), I went in to the store, took care of the letters, and pole, and ventured out to my car to exchange my sun blockers for my vision enhancers.

I grabbed the handle, and the door didn't open.

I did it again. Then I realized that my car has a safety feature....that locks the doors without having to touch anything.

Through hazy eyes, I squinted in to the car. My glasses were sitting on the driver's seat...along with my car keys. The door was, in fact, locked. The windows were closed. The truck was locked.

Getting my glasses back kind of felt like this.

After a rather lengthy panic attack, and calling my sister who informed me it'll cost about $75 to unlock my car through a locksmith, through the advice of a friend I contacted my insurance company. Lo and behold, I HAVE ROADSIDE ASSISTANCE!

Within the hour my car was unlocked, the day was saved and I hugged the kind old man who made me sign a waiver that released him from smashing out my window, and thus begins another week in the life of Lynne.

Happy Monday.

Would You Sell Your Body?

The question gets asked a lot; What would you be willing to do for money? I make the joke that I'll sell my body for money, become a hooker, and work the streets. And then I realize I don't like being naked, or being touched, or you know...being tied up, or freaky, or any of that stuff, and I'm pretty sure if people are paying me for my body, they kind of get to do what they want, no? So then those plans fall apart.

Or so I thought.

The hospital was huge. And I usually got lost.

I've spent the last two weeks being a voluntary lab rat for a drug study. Why? 1) Because I don't like animal testing and I've always said there will be people dumb enough to test drugs for whatever reason. (I am that dumb person :) ) 2) They paid me $300 and I have a lot of bills to pay.

Three times, I spent about an hour getting hooked up to machines that monitored my face muscles and my galvanic responses. As she hooked electrodes up to my de-watched and de-braceleted wrists, I said rather sheepishly, "Please just ignore the cutting scars." The woman placing them on me stopped for a second and said, "Wow, you really have been through a lot, haven't you?"

When that was done, I shoved a syringe up my nose, inhaled deeply, and then got to watch Blue Planet for a half hour (it was lovely. I watched about Polar Bears and whales), and then looked at pictures and answered test questions like, "How attractive do you find this face?" "How likely would you be to approach this person?" "How approachable do you find this face?" One day I was given the placebo. One day I was given the actual drug and had some difficulty breathing/the room kind of spun. (I may have lied when they asked whether or not I have heart problems...)

After, I spent a few minutes answering a survey and then having to get blood drawn. I chatted quite a bit (making sure to sell the fact that I'm an author and that I do presentations because you never know when it'll come in handy).

Baxter takes injections/giving blood
better than I do. 

By today, I look like a heroine addict (turns out one of the days I was dehydrated and it was difficult to get blood). I had my last round of looking at pictures, though because I got no drug or placebo, I didn't have to shove anything up anywhere, or give blood.

As I put on my jacket to leave I started getting kind of sad. I'd spent several hours with the woman hooking me up to machines and poking me with needles. She told me about her family, I showed her pictures of Baxter (and told her about my screwed up family). It was strange coming to an understanding that I probably won't see this woman or the doctor ever again. They both seemed awesome and nice.

The last Tuesday I'd been there, the woman had told me, "Do you plan on having kids?" and while she didn't know about the abortion, I still cringed.

"No," I told her. "I don't want to end up like my mom."

Her voice became very serious. "I don't think you'll EVER have to worry about that. You're nothing like her."

As I drove home from work that night, I ended up crying. What if I do want kids? What if I end up like my mom? Isn't in better to just say you hate kids and that you never want them so you don't end up even potentially destroying them?

As I got up to make my final exit, she stood in front of me, fully stopping my path to freedom and said, "I'm hugging you, and I don't care whether you've showered or not." (I hadn't.) Then she wrapped both of her small around around me, and we embraced. When we parted she looked me square in the eyes and said, "You'll do great things with your life. I'm happy I met you, and I wish you nothing but the best for your future."

She walked me to the elevevator and as I stepped on, I looked back and said, "You know, when people like you give me those little speeches, it kind of reaffirms the fact that I need to become a bad ass and change the world."

I drove home smiling. I get the feeling that she doesn't say or do these things to ever lab rat in the study.