1. You can crack a rib from coughing
Like for a huge swath of the population, the end of the year brought with it some fucked up flu/cold bugs. These things were nasty; attacking every part of one’s body, leading you to the conclusion that the sweet release of death may be the only thing to bring one some relief. My throat hurt, my head hurt, my freaking skin hurt. Since we were in the middle of moving, I work full-time, I volunteer one night a week, and I was doing all the holiday stuff, relaxing and healing weren’t an option. Yes, yes, I know, taking care of my health should be my #1 priority. It wasn’t, and I had this crap cough that would not quit. Last Saturday morning, I had a gnarly morning coughing fit (you know, that first thing when you wake up, cough up all the shit that has settled in your chest throughout the night kind of fit), when something suddenly hurt like hell and continued to get worse throughout the day (of moving furniture. Probably not the best plan). When I expressed my suspicions to my lovely husband, he replied, “You can’t fucking crack a rib from coughing.” Well, my X-rays at the emergency room the next morning told a different story, and my attempts to make him feel guilty for his dismissive response have been successful. My rib hurts like hell, but the cough is getting better, so I’m on the mend.
2. Bank of America is a dick
As I have written about before, I tried to restructure my mortgage with Bank of America for four years, basically from the time I bought my house until about a year and a half ago. When it became clear that the bank was not only going to fuck with me instead of help, but actively lie and steal from me, I gave up. For over a year, we heard almost nothing, save for random Fed Ex envelopes with a one sheet form letter offering to help us restructure our loan every few months. Then, the day after Thanksgiving, sometime between 4 and 5 p.m., they posted a 3-day-notice on my front door. The notice basically said I had three days to get my shit out. Served the Friday after Thanksgiving, when no law firms are open, including the one listed on the notice. Thankfully, I work at a law firm and was well aware that the notice merely started a clock and didn’t actually mean there would be a sheriff at my door on Monday to kick me out.
But Bank of America doesn’t know I know that. No, they waited until the most inopportune and cruel moment to serve me with the information. If I were not moderately well-versed in the process, I would have been making myself sick all weekend wondering what in the hell to do. Most people who have been served with these notices have no idea what they mean, aside from what they say, and what they say is scary. They could have picked any other day over the previous 365, yet they chose to do it on that particular one because they are dicks. Any other day I would have had the ability to contact an attorney, Legal Aid, or the firm on the notice. Any other day I would have been able to put my mind at some kind of ease. It is not a coincidence that chose to do it the way they did. Nobody will ever be able to convince me that it was. While I was aware it was coming eventually, and many might argue that I deserve whatever I get for “letting” this happen, both of which are perfectly valid, though the latter is a bit judgmental, the reality is that Bank of America chose to do it in the most damaging and hurtful way possible. They want to terrify people. They want to add insult to the already heartbreaking situation of losing your house.
I was pretty much already aware that this was the case, but their timing on this confirmed and lingering doubts. When we filed an answer to their complaint pointing out their mistakes and inaccuracies, they also dropped the case without providing us with notice so that my attorney showed up for our scheduled hearing on New Year’s Eve only to find the case was dropped. Again, total dick move. Thankfully the attorney was my dad, otherwise that trip to court would have cost me around $500. Anyone who still thinks they aren’t doing everything in their power just to fuck with people is kidding themselves.
3. Some things on Pinterest and in real life are absolutely amazeballs. Amazeballs, I tell you.
Because the last two things sucked ass, I would like to let you all in on some awesome new items and ideas that are total game changers.
This stuff is amazing. I picked up a bottle at Ross for $6.99 the other day because I needed lotion and I am very susceptible to suggestion. I mean, come on, it has “miracle” right there in the name, it must be magical, right? Except, unlike pretty much all the other things claiming to be miraculous, this lotion is pretty damn close. My hands have been super dry due to moving, cold weather, and the aforementioned super germs, and Jon’s hands are in a perpetual state of gnarliness that grosses me out. I can’t let him rub on me if I am wearing certain materials because his dry ass hands catch on the fabric and make weird noises and it freaks me out. A few days of using this lotion and it is like I have whole new hands. They have foot lotion, too, which is awesome if you pair it with these:
Gel socks! I have given these the side eye, again at Ross, for months. I had a pair of the gel gloves and they were just too weird and way to hard to get on and off. In a moment of weakness and scratchy heels, I bought a pair. They feel totally strange on, but in a lovely, squishy way. you kind of feel like you are going to slip and slide all over the floor, but it is all in your head. The little rubber feet on the soles keep you safe and sound. If you lather up with lotion and then slip these babies on before bed, when you wake up in the morning, your feet are akin to a baby’s ass.
And finally, last but most certainly not least, a completely unbelievable tale of Pinterest tips that actually work and don’t require any level of competence, talent, or reading of instructions to accomplish. If you have been on Pinterest lately, you have probably seen a picture of Vick’s VapoRub and a pair of socks. If not, here you go:
I have been coughing my ass off for weeks. WEEKS! Since I cracked the ol’ rib, I have been terrified to sleep because I know the night coughs and morning coughs are the worst and I am sick of crying every single time I take a deep breath. Last night, I followed these very simple instructions— get Vick’s, rub it generously on the bottoms of your feet, put on socks. That’s it. Pin instructions complete. Perhaps I miraculously got over my cough over night; I will allow for that. However, I went to bed last night and slept all the way through without waking up in screaming pain from hacking. When I got up this morning, I cleared my throat a few times, but no major episode of coughing and wheezing and trying desperately to catch my breath while holding the only position that I can cough in without my rib hurting like hell. So maybe I am magically cured, or maybe, just maybe, a less than $2 remedy would have saved me a shit ton of money on cold medicine, humidifiers, and ER visits. If you or someone you love has been kept up with the nastiness, give it a shot tonight. Hopefully it will be as amazing for you as it was for me.