Monday

I was going to haiku this morning's entry, but my shoulder hurts too much to think that well.

The mystery of the house fire is solved: a 'flammable liquid' thrown at the house when the current owners weren't in residence. See, the thing about having a lodge in an area where everyone who lives there year round can hardly stay afloat, is that you are throwing your privilege in their face. No one likes to be treated like a stupid, penniless local. People take offense, and they get their revenge.

The a/c is allegedly being repaired today. If we don't see anyone by 10am this morning, we're getting on the phone until someone does show up. Meantime, I'm going to have to heat up the house by doing the laundry and dishes. I can't put it off any longer.

And the story, which I've had to put off for three days now while we escaped the house and the girls camped in my office because it's so cold down here? Maybe I'll even manage the story again.

For now, though, it's upstairs again for more ibuprofen. It would be nice if I could take this shoulder to a doctor. But I can't really afford to pay $25 for a 90 minute wait, all for the privilege of being told my insurance company doesn't believe treating this is medically necessary and so I can just go home and tough it out. Meantime, other people in other countries can go to the doctor without fear of being ripped off and know they will be dealt with fairly and their shoulders treated properly. Overseas I would be a patient. Here, I am a wallet with legs.

And that's all my politics for now.