"I say nothing of it's motives. They were founded in ignorance, not wickedness. God forbid we should ever be 20 years without such a rebellion. The people cannot be all, & always well informed. The part which is wrong will be discontented in proportion to the importance of the facts they misconceive. If they remain quiet under such misconceptions it is a lethargy, the forerunner of death to the public liberty."
From a letter written by Thomas Jefferson concerning Shays' Rebellion (which nobody ever learns about in school).
Friday, August 14, 2009
Friday, August 07, 2009
My new health plan:
Don't get sick or in a car accident.
When I added my husband and son to my insurance a few years ago, my premiums went from about $75 a month to about $250 a month. So when Tyson started filling out paperwork for his new job and went to add me and his son to his policy, he realized it was going to cost nearly $800.
EIGHT HUNDRED DOLLARS A MONTH. That's nearly what we pay in rent. Shit. Just covering him and Nick is only going to run $140. So basically I'm out on my ass on this one. (Even if he had considered it, I would have asked for the $650 in cash every month instead and bought myself something nice.)
So today I've spent some time reviewing my other options for healthcare:
1. Go without, and hope for the best. I'm under thirty, in fairly good overall health. Odds are good I'll find a job with its own insurance in a few months. Tyson went without for like 30 years and still made it through okay. Plus, no insurance means I can go to the free clinic for my lady problems.
The major drawback to this plan is that pesky pre-existing conditions thing. Between the skin cancer, clinical depression, and history of frequent abnormal PAPs, I don't think I could get the care I needed when I got coverage again (and when I eventually need that hysterectomy, I don't want to be the one footing the bill).
2. COBRA. Because I voluntarily left my job, I don't qualify for reduced rates. Keeping my current level of benefits will cost about $650 a month, leaving us no better off than we were before. Or I can get an "at least I'm not fucked if I have to go to the hospital" plan with like a $3000 deductible for under a hundred bucks. Not really a lot of middle ground here.
3. Private short-term insurance. Depending on the deductible and co-payment involved (from 20% to a whopping SEVENTY PERCENT), I can get middling coverage for between $70 and $250 a month. Problem: The maximum length for this type of insurance is six months. I'm fairly confident of having an insurance-providing job by then, but the universe (and the economy) may have me waiting tables at Applebee's six months from now instead.
4. Private regular old insurance (AKA "Corporate Ass-Rape"). Basically for a lot of money I can have a shitty plan with a high deductible, with the option of continuing to pay the ridiculous premiums ad infinitum, if such is my desire.
I don't qualify for Medicare, I can't get insurance through my school, and, because I spent seven years as a liberal arts major, I have absolutely no skills that transfer to the non-school world, allowing me to get a good job in another field. Apparently, jobs in the field of sentence diagramming aren't required to provide benefits.
Being a grown-up sucks.
When I added my husband and son to my insurance a few years ago, my premiums went from about $75 a month to about $250 a month. So when Tyson started filling out paperwork for his new job and went to add me and his son to his policy, he realized it was going to cost nearly $800.
EIGHT HUNDRED DOLLARS A MONTH. That's nearly what we pay in rent. Shit. Just covering him and Nick is only going to run $140. So basically I'm out on my ass on this one. (Even if he had considered it, I would have asked for the $650 in cash every month instead and bought myself something nice.)
So today I've spent some time reviewing my other options for healthcare:
1. Go without, and hope for the best. I'm under thirty, in fairly good overall health. Odds are good I'll find a job with its own insurance in a few months. Tyson went without for like 30 years and still made it through okay. Plus, no insurance means I can go to the free clinic for my lady problems.
The major drawback to this plan is that pesky pre-existing conditions thing. Between the skin cancer, clinical depression, and history of frequent abnormal PAPs, I don't think I could get the care I needed when I got coverage again (and when I eventually need that hysterectomy, I don't want to be the one footing the bill).
2. COBRA. Because I voluntarily left my job, I don't qualify for reduced rates. Keeping my current level of benefits will cost about $650 a month, leaving us no better off than we were before. Or I can get an "at least I'm not fucked if I have to go to the hospital" plan with like a $3000 deductible for under a hundred bucks. Not really a lot of middle ground here.
3. Private short-term insurance. Depending on the deductible and co-payment involved (from 20% to a whopping SEVENTY PERCENT), I can get middling coverage for between $70 and $250 a month. Problem: The maximum length for this type of insurance is six months. I'm fairly confident of having an insurance-providing job by then, but the universe (and the economy) may have me waiting tables at Applebee's six months from now instead.
4. Private regular old insurance (AKA "Corporate Ass-Rape"). Basically for a lot of money I can have a shitty plan with a high deductible, with the option of continuing to pay the ridiculous premiums ad infinitum, if such is my desire.
I don't qualify for Medicare, I can't get insurance through my school, and, because I spent seven years as a liberal arts major, I have absolutely no skills that transfer to the non-school world, allowing me to get a good job in another field. Apparently, jobs in the field of sentence diagramming aren't required to provide benefits.
Being a grown-up sucks.
Thursday, August 06, 2009
This is the kind of thing I miss when I go out of town:
The Cupcake Collective is a charity cupcake party benefiting a kids' arts organization. Basically, you can pay $5 to make at least a dozen cupcakes and enter them in a category. Then you have to come to the party next Saturday and display them and be judged and everything. OR you can just show up empty-handed on Saturday and pay $5 to go eat other people's cupcakes.
As excited as I am to be starting my master's program, I am pretty bummed that it means missing a big cupcake party.
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