We’re home! The house was kind of a disaster with pineapple rotting in the trash can, fruit flies everywhere, leftover pizza boxes on the dining table, and the smell of something having died in the car, but the cat was waiting for us in the kitchen when we arrived, and I fairly quickly put the kitchen in order. Everyone is off to school today, and I am engaged in deep cleaning therapy, touching everything in the house.
Before we left for San Francisco I got one of those credit card offers in the mail. It was good until May 26, so I figured I wouldn’t borrow any more trouble than I had to. I’ve been looking for it ever since I got back, even though I know I don’t need to open us up to the possibility of any more debt, and I can’t find it anywhere. Surely a sign.
I received another offer in the mail while I was gone (along with a dozen notices from Blue Cross that seem to say, “Yes, we agree she needs treatment and these procedures are approved under our guidelines, but this is no guarantee of payment.”), but it doesn’t have the card included, and really if I can make it through the next ten days, I don’t need another card.
So I’m cleaning and looking for that first offer with the little piece of plastic obligation disguised as freedom attached for convenient instant gratification, and I found a $50 bill in an old envelope with a bunch of receipts! I can’t believe it!