Colorless Green Ideas Unintentionally Amusing In Person
Wednesday, April 02, 2003
Not quite so gloomy outside today
The weather was glorious this weekend. It was sunny on Saturday, and Sunday, when we went to breakfast with some friends, I stood outside without a jacket and was perfectly comfortable and happy. I stood cheerfully in the sunshine for 30 minutes and waited for a table without gritting my teeth, even though I was hungry and had not yet had any coffee. This is why I need to move to San Francisco, or somewhere else in California, or perhaps Arizona, or New Mexico, or Hawaii, where it doesn’t get colder that 65 degrees in the wintertime, and it’s not gloomy and awful for a minimum of 3 months, and often more like 5 or 6 months. Somewhere that bread doesn’t get moldy after a week. Somewhere that has weather that is not in the least like the weather here, in the Pacific Northwest, where I live, and have lived for the past decade or so, since I graduated from high school and moved to western Washington to go to college. Which, although there have been some nice side benefits to going to college where I did (I met my husband there, for example), was, from a meteorological perspective, very stupid. I should have gone to college somewhere sunny, so that I could graduate and move somewhere close by to start my working life as a pseudo-adult. But because I went to college in the Pacific Northwest, and am not independently wealthy in any way, I graduated and moved from Bellingham, WA to Portland, OR. Still the Pacific Northwest. Still rainy. Not quite so bad as Bellingham, but still not as good as, say, San Diego. We wanted to move to San Francisco after graduation, but since no one had a job lined up there, and we didn’t have several thousand dollars saved up with which to pay the first month’s rent for a place in San Francisco, we settled for Portland, which is much cheaper than San Francisco, and father south than Seattle.
One of the many reasons why I ought to go and live somewhere that it is sunny, and does not rain on me ever time I go outside, is that I have recurring borderline clinical depression, which is extra fun when the weather is bald-facedly encouraging me to just commit suicide and get it over with. I was happy this weekend—eager to go do things, able to deal pleasantly with potentially-stressful situations, and unlikely to slip into a coma of misery for no reason at all, or burst into tears over some trauma like running out of peanut butter for toast. But Monday, when it was pouring rain, the things that I considered writing about were:
§ How the modern social mythology of “happily ever after” contributes to failed relationships and marriages
§ How the modern social mythology of “love conquers all” just encourages people who don’t like each other and have nothing in common to stay together, even though their relationship is clearly doomed
§ How the common inability to commit to anything forces a lot of the people that I know into a permanent holding pattern in which they never get anywhere or achieve anything
These are not, in my opinion, topics that a recently-married person with a moderately-successful career beginning ought to be obsessing about, even if they are legitimate topics of concern. They’re also topics practically designed to deepen existing depression.
a) not see him today
b) see him today at the much more expensive “Non-Member” rate
because he does not yet have his insurance card, since today is the first day his insurance is active. I gave him the group number and copay information, and told him to tell them that I could fax over whatever information they wanted, but that he is covered and he should be able to see a doctor, at member prices today. Effective 4/1/03 means effective 4/1/03, and that’s that.
I hope that he stands up for himself and gets to see the doctor. It has been at least 2 years since his last check up, and he’s got some stuff that needs looking into (serious and arguably life-threatening sleep apnea in his family, suspicious-looking moles, etc.) and I want it seen to by a qualified member of the medical profession ASAP.
Medical administrators never pull that kind of crap on me.
But then, I can make my own appointments.
Maybe it's a modern form of Darwinian natural selection?