OT: May I vent, just a little?

Don’t worry. I’m not going to talk about politics, or about terrorism, or about guns. Although the circumstances of late have got me on edge and are making my tolerance a lot lower for life’s little aggravations. So if y’all don’t mind, I need to blow off a little steam here, over my First World Problems.

My mother passed away in 2012, and my stepfather in 2014. Here it is the middle of 2016, and would you believe all the details of their trust still aren’t fully resolved?? I won’t bore you with who’s who and what’s what, but let’s just say certain people haven’t been cooperating. Not responding to requests, not communicating, not providing what’s needed. And so, things drag on and on and on. Why do people have to be so damn difficult? I have my crazy stepsister’s all-caps emails and one of her drunken rants saved on my voice mail. What a piece of work. She got more money than anyone else in the will, and she’s still complaining. In her last message, she slurred, “I wish Dad were here so I could shake some sense into him.” Really? THAT’S why you want your dad here? Ick. I wish she didn’t have my address and phone number. Thank goodness for caller ID.

Also, remember at the end of last year when I had a root canal and a crown restoration? Guess how much of that my dental insurance covered? Zero. WTF is the point of having dental insurance if they don’t pay for anything? Oh yeah, they cover cleanings and x-rays. Big whoop. But as soon as you need anything besides that, they deny you. I spent a fair amount of time online researching the racket that is dental insurance, and discovered that unless I pay a fortune, I’m not getting any decent coverage. If your dental insurance is covered by your office group plan, give thanks. Because an individual paying for their own plan is screwed. Soooooo… I am now trying something different: A dental discount plan. You pay a small annual fee, and then all your dental procedures are discounted. Not free, mind you. They’re still expensive. Just not as expensive. For example, the root canal that cost me $1300 would have cost $700. I spent about forty-five minutes on the phone with an agent today who explained it all to me. The good news? No waiting period. I’m on the plan immediately. More good news? My dentist and endodontist accept the plan. So now, if my teeth continue to fall apart, at least I won’t go broke as quickly. The plan is Aetna, so at least it’s not some Joe Blow dental plan that will get bought out before I get to use it.

But what a headache. This, on top of paying over $800 a month for medical insurance. This is the downside of self-employment. Still… I wouldn’t have it any other way. Everything comes with a price.

And finally — those of you who have been with me for a while, or who read my book, know that I had the Stepmother From Hell, my father’s third wife. When he finally wised up and unloaded her, he stayed close with her son, B, who is about eight years younger than I am. When Dad passed away, B came to help me with packing up his place, and he came to Dad’s memorial. He was a decent kid, nothing like his mother. After that, we kind of fell out of touch. I knew he had married and had a couple of kids (I got the Christmas cards and the erstwhile email), but we didn’t communicate otherwise. This week, clear out of the blue, I got email from him. Said he’s been through some “crazy life changes” and would love to get together to catch up. Coffee? Sure, I said. We agreed for this Thursday. This morning, he wrote again, asking if we could do lunch instead. Said he had to do something for his son later that afternoon, and that “wouldn’t leave sufficient time for his long-lost sister.”

I know he meant that in the nicest possible way. I know I should be flattered that he thinks of me that way. But I couldn’t help it; I felt creeped out. “I’m not your sister,” I thought. “I had a brother. You aren’t him. And I don’t share any of that bat-shit crazy woman’s blood with you.” Am I horrible? I don’t mean to be this way, but you have to understand — his mother made my life hell for years. I know it’s not his fault, but seeing him, hearing from him, reminds me of her and I feel almost sort of a PTSD. I mean, to this day I still can’t stand to hear the c-word, because she called me that all the time.

And what does he want, anyway, after all these years? What are these crazy life changes? Divorce? Am I a terrible person for wondering if he needs money for some reason? Ugh. Between John’s family and mine, I’ve known way too many truly crappy people. I am suspicious, and I don’t like being that way.

So yeah. I’m meeting B for lunch on Thursday. I am curious. And my dad was very fond of him. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to meet up and hear him out. I’ll just have to brace myself to hear about his mother. Maybe the witch is dead. Ding dong! Oh, please. Trust me, B has no illusions about Mommie Dearest. Years ago, when his first child was born, he said something along the lines of “I don’t want her [his mother] to come anywhere near him.” I think she’d be somewhere in her late seventies now.

Oy. I need to get my spank on. Soon. And I am way overdue for a Girls’ Night Out. I am hoping that both will happen next week. Meanwhile, this week I will stay busy with work and do my best to maintain some semblance of sanity in a world of chaos.

If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you…

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