Eggnog Season

Sasha has food.
Sasha will have more food.
I don't have to go to the market tomorrow.
I can stay home and if I don't have a roaring migraine, I can caulk the cracks in the wall by the ceiling beams and we can save some heat and energy this winter.

Sasha felt so nauseated this morning that I had to pull over and find a drinking fountain at a store so she could take meds, because we left the house without her water bottle.  We don't risk store bottled water because most of  it has corn derivatives added.  We survived the errands and managed to do schoolwork today, despite my leftover migraine.

So what do I care about how much funding I have in my homeschool account for lessons Sasha can't take or curriculum we won't use?  I have to order flooring tomorrow to patch the bare spot where the weird add-in fireplace used to be.  Then, for the five hundred millionth time, I have to call insurance AND the allergist about an issue that started in April when someone somewhere messed something up that started a whole line of screwed up EOBs and incorrect bills that everyone and their mom swore they fixed at least 4 times now, that I just got sent another bill for.  I no joke, have a whole file just for this one issue, which is not even related to all the other insurance mistakes that I have been dealing with since Monday.  I have been taking my kids to the allergist for 9 fucking years.  Nine fucking years, and then that one time there was a glitch in the matrix and now everything's broken.

*weeping desperately*  And on Monday...Monday, I take Em to UCSF and beg and plead with the front office to code the damn visit correctly for the attending physician and not the resident so that I don't have to scream and cry at my insurance to get them to understand what's going on, since I promise you, it will be no one else's mistake but mine for having sick kids at the end of the day.

And all this bullshit is how my kids and I are supposed to be getting better?

But Sasha's Avocados are coming in, so there's that.  She's out of bed and crying because she feels so crappy, and I'll put some essential oils on her and give her an ice pack and hope that works to get her to sleep, a fairly regular occurrence.  But day in, day out, we slide by just barely hanging on, rolling with all the major disasters.  The guy pulling the fireplace out could hardly believe how little we cared if the floor patch really matched or not.  I tried to explain.  *shrug*

It's just hard to believe.  I grieved when we lost wheat, and I really grieved when we lost corn.  Now I find myself in the cycles of grief over the general state of my life, and I wish to get past it as soon as possible so I get on with pounding through.  But so much of me is still in denial.  Could this really be how life works?  You're sick, your kids are sick.  You have insurance, they screw you day in and day out, and no one gets better.  The food situation fluctuates but it's never "good", and you have to continue giving a shit about every day stuff like laundry.

Oh, but it's eggnog season.  I am genuinely stoked about that.  And in an ideal world I have an entire upright freezer dedicated to frozen eggnog to sustain me through the summer.  Solar powered, of course, because in my ideal world we're solar, obviously.