Bankruptcy; Sick and Medical Costs; IRS and Cats; "Rashomama"

A copy of the bankruptcy filing popped up in the mail Tuesday. All 45 pages of it! I noticed that several of the credit card companies have multiple addresses. I'm sure that's so they can have a corporate headquarters in one place, but bill from another state that allows the imposition of higher interest rates. Some of the rates border on the obscene and would certainly make even Shylock blush in shame.

I actually feel better this evening. I'd hesitated going to the doctor on Monday because of the money situation, but I'm glad I did. Compared to how I fell this evening, I was much sicker than I thought.

My gawd! Medical costs are outrageous. My visit consisted of $73 for the examination; $120 for an injection of Rocephin ($120! Holy motherfuck!); and $35 for the administration of the injection. For a total of $228. Since I've not met the deductible, my out-of-pocket cost was $127.72.

The antibiotic costs me another $30. And of course, this hit just as I needed refills for several other prescriptions. $30 for Wellbutrin XL 300; $12 for Omeprazole; $12 for Clonazepam. Lexapro and Alprazolam (Xanax) will need to be refilled next week.

And as you will recall, I had to go into the overdraft protection of the checking account to pay for this. And each overdraft incurs a $35 charge. Christ! No wonder I have money problems.

When I opened the mail box this morning, there was a letter, addressed by hand, from the IRS. Which sent my anxiety level up several notches. But it turned out I'd forgotten to sign my return. Duhhhh!

Whenever I attempt to work at my desk, the cats want to plop down under the lamp. So I'm always distracted. I have an oriental box on the desk that I keep papers in. Well, several of the felines have discovered they can just fit themselves in it. So between the cats and sorting through the papers, I overlooked the signature.

At night, I dare not leave any books or magazines on the floor. (I place them on a wall shelf several feet above the bed.) For early in the morning, Hermes will start ripping the pages out to wake me up. He caught on to what I was doing, so he moved to the living room and would start ripping the pages out of any books or magazine left on top of the bookcase. OK! So now I have to make sure all the books are on the shelves and the mags hidden away in a drawer. Not to be outdone, Hermes and Tiger, Tiger have started attacking the trash basket. Which I now place in another room and close the door. What next?

"CSI" has become the one program on TV, I'll go out of the way to watch. The new programs are on CBS at 8 pm CDT on Thrusday. Older programs are on everyday at 6 pm CDT on Spike.

Tonight's story hinged on all the evidence for a murder at a wedding being stolen. So each agent had to retell how s/he saw the events. And what's the name of the episode - "Rashomama", an illusion to Akira Kurosawa's 1950 film "Rashômon".

In the movie:

"In 12th century Japan, a samurai and his wife are attacked by the notorious bandit Tajomaru, and the samurai ends up dead. Tajomaru is captured shortly afterward and is put on trial, but his story and the wife's are so completely different that a psychic is brought in to allow the murdered man to give his own testimony. He tells yet another completely different story. Finally, a woodcutter who found the body reveals that he saw the whole thing, and his version is again completely different from the others."

In "CSI," one of the characters, Greg, who has a strong penchant for the early days of Las Vegas, thought of the events as a film noir.

It is so rare to see a program with any degree of cleverness.

Oddly enough, in reading the forums at several locations, no one caught the significance of the title. Surely I'm not the only one who is familiar with Kurosawa. Or maybe I am.

PAX!