Archive for September 2013
do i need a decongestant or a punch in the face?
As our elected officials argue over who will pay for the latest erectile dysfunction breakthroughs under the Affordable Care Act, healthcare consumers are trying to navigate how the changes will affect each and every one of us.
For example, I recently discovered that I will be paying an additional $208 a month in premiums for my health insurance which covers little more than the gauze I’d need if I got run over by a Suburban.
Despite the industry overhaul, some aspects of the Affordable Care Act are not changing how we receive healthcare in this country. And although I haven’t poured over the 2,000+ pages of legislation, I’m pretty confident that Target Pharmacy technicians are still not physicians and therefore should not be asked a 27-minute-long series of questions about your sinus drainage. This is especially true when I am standing behind you in line with rainbow sherbet in my cart waiting to pick up the Z-pak my insurance won’t pay for to treat my actual sinus infection.
Thanks for turning my dessert into a spilled puddle of corn syrup in the back of my car
the dirtiest thing you’ll never clean
Does anyone know if it’s acceptable to use the commercial deposits lane at the bank drive-thru if I want to avoid handling the tube in the other lanes?
I’m sure the security footage of me Germ-Xing the tube will be used one day when my sanity is questioned, but I don’t care. Tellers should pass out gloves instead of lollipops.
hyde parking horror
I’m officially done with the Hyde Park parking garage. Do not judge me for spending my mortgage in lululemon and then taking the elevator to my car because not only does that stairwell smell like a tuna fish’s unchanged diaper, but this was left on level 2. I will literally rappel off the roof before I walk down those stairs again.
i’ll take one frosted triple bypass
Apparently the trainers at Crossfit and the St Petersburg Cardiology Group* formed an alliance to ensure the Copper Monkey and I stop spinning and spending half our week in downward facing dog.
Because after that sign flashes “Hot Now,” what’s the point?
It might not be 13th Street at midnight after we beat the Cinnamon Rolls**, but Vegas odds are high my fat ass will be drawn to that sign like a heat-seeking missile the second it burns red.
In the meantime, I’ve advised Lululemon to station therapists outside their dressing room. Thanks to their ridiculously short-crotched and anorexic-only workout gear, I have learned to make a noose out of a sports bra, and that was before this heart-choking mirage appeared near my daily commute (does it qualify as a “commute” if it involves little more than buying bottled water and tampons from Target?).
For those of you who haven’t yet swerved off the road when you spotted this sign go up (or aren’t on Copper Monkey’s Krispy Kreme phone tree), St. Pete’s one-and-only Krispy Kreme is now strategically located across from the drive-thru Starbucks on 4th Street (known in my Starbucks classification system as the “Russian Mob-ucks”). So, to really speed up the onset of type II diabetes, we can get our PSL (yes, I hate me too) and our glazed coronary artery disease all without turning off Diane Rehm.
Honestly, I cannot think of a better way to abuse my pancreas.
*Please don’t burn a cross on my lawn, Crossfitters. I’m kidding. Plus, there is no St. Petersburg Cardiology Group, so suck it.
**I was having an especially hard time understanding the bagger at Publix yesterday who was talking about my cinnamon rolls as she grabbed my cart from the parking lot. It wasn’t until she pointed to my license plate, and said, “Go Gators!” that I realized she was talking about the Seminoles. And then I felt really bad. For not understanding her. And also for hoping she wasn’t an alumna.
i only wear white when it rains 