I
woke at 7am and couldn’t get back to sleep. It was much colder today, very
cool, so I got up and closed my balcony doors early, at that time, sometime
just after 7. Then I couldn’t go back to sleep, I couldn’t drift off, I lay
there. I rested, I closed my eyes, but in the end I had to stop trying to
sleep.
So
I turned on my laptop and fluffed the pillows. I did phase out again, just for
a short time, as my eyelids got heavy and my body zzzzzz’d.
I’m
stressing about everything, I’m worried just about everything in my life,
everything except Santo are in a state of worrying flux. Not the least of which
is the fact that I forgot to take my mum to the dentist. She had broken a tooth
and the second of her front teeth was loose, last Sunday when Gill and I went
to visit. I was supposed to call and take her last Monday, but it slipped my
mind. It wasn’t until last night when Jan asked me how mum was?
“Oh
fuck, fuck! I can’t believe it, I was supposed to take her to the dentist.”
How
could I be so stupid? How can I be so useless? Why am I so useless? Of course,
it is true, you know…
So
at 9am, I got and called the dentist. I have to take her at midday tomorrow.
OMG!
Oh please let it go okay. Please universe let her not shit herself in the
process of going to the dentist.
OMG!
Oh please let her second tooth be still attached. Please universe let her have
as many teeth as possible still in her head.
Oh,
is anyone going to employ me? Can I remember anything? Am I going to work
again? Ohhhhhhh? Shake! Shiver! I’m shit!
Oh,
for goodness sake… shake yourself, slap if need be… just be positive, just be a
glass half full, stop being so negative.
I
head to the periodontist. I’m there by 11am. It was
my initial treatment to fix my gums and save my teeth, with the new guy.
It hurt. Nerve
zzzzzz!!!!!!! Varrhh!!!!! Ahhh!!!!! Oh!!!!! That pointy spike thing. I think he
was cleaning my jaw bone, at varying times.
“That
will be $800 dollars today.”
“Um…
oh… I thought it was going to be $250?”
“That’s
for maintenance, this is the first treatment, deep clean, so that’s why it is
$800,” said the nice dental receptionist. “Didn’t we go through the payment
plan.”
“Um…
no… I don’t think we did.”
She
peered at the screen as though she was looking up my details. “Oh… um… maybe we
didn’t,” she said. She took my card. “So is that credit.”
That’s
it? No we didn’t go through the payment plan. “Should we look at the payment
plan then?”
“Well?”
She looked at me blankly. “We’ll see you in four weeks and then it will be
$250.” She shrugged and smiled.
Okay?
So that is it? Then? Oh my bank balance.
He worked on my teeth for
30 minutes and it cost $800. By my reckoning, that is $1600 an hour. $1600 an
hour? Now, I don't know what you think, but when I thought about it, that is
outrageous. Oh yes, university training, blah blah blah. Sure, of course that
is true. Hygiene, oh yes, of course. But, my cleaner is similarly involved in
my hygiene and she earns nothing near that amount.
But, even if I paid him,
let's say, $100, that would be $200 an hour, which, in my book, is still very
well paid. $150 for 30 minutes, $300 an hour. That is also very well paid.
Outrageous, when you
consider that it is always a drama when the lowest paid members of our society
ask for a pay rise through the fair work commission and it is always a drama.
The commissioners hum and ha over whether is should be increased by $2 or
$2.50. How can the lowest paid people always get their cost of living rise cut
or modified, or debated and become a part of the national interest when there
are people earning $1600 an hour.
Where is the outrage when
periodontists raise their hourly rate? I ask you?
I
headed to lunch with Beck and Mel. They were waiting out the front. They were
chatty, chatting about meeting, about the day, about lunch. I was mute, a
little nervous. “Can you talk?”
My
hand raised to my mouth. I wasn’t sure. “I’m not sure.” It was kind of the first
time I had spoken. I sounded like I had cotton wool in my mouth. “Woob woob
woob woob.”
They
laughed.
“I
think I need zouph.”
“Soup
for you,” said Mel. “Soup.”
Both
Beck and Mel are good. We went to a café over Collins Street and ordered pasta
bake and coffee.
It
was a Black Law Firm hate fest, of course. As Beck said, we had a good thing
going, we had a good working relationship, we had it all set up and running
smoothly and then they wrecked it, they destroyed it and we got thrown out for
no good reason. Beck was pushed. I was sacked.
I
told the two of them how I still kind of worried that I was shit and that no
one would hired me, that I was really no good.
They
gave me that sideways look, that look you get when you are telling truths, real
truths, real emotional truths, that get people’s attention.
“You’ll
get a job,” said Beck. “Don’t worry, you’ll get a job.”
It
does concern me that I am crap and that I am a second rate employee who gets
the sack.
Beck
said that money on my mortgage doesn’t count towards money in the bank for the
dole. I think about going on the dole and renting out my two spare rooms. I’ve
never been on the dole, I wonder if that would work?
I
went to Medibank afterwards and put in claims for $1000 worth of dental work
and got refunded $40. Periodontal is not dental, but major dental, it is
different, of course, so it is not covered. The new Medibank
benefits/regime/payment details do include periodontal, but my payments would increase
by $50 per month, or so, if I did that.
“Okay,
how about if I delete my extras and just have hospital?”
Well,
with the changes in the payment structure, if I reduce my cover to just
hospital, my monthly payment would, actually, go up by $5… because I signed up
12 years ago and I have the cheaper payment plan.
“Okay
then, we are done here, I guess.”
If
I get rid of my cover all together, when and if I take it up again, I will be
penalised 2% every year for ten years and then that penalty would stay with me
for ten years, something like that, before it is dropped off again.
Do
I want to drop my health insurance? And risk that.
And
then, of course, there is the tax penalty, which makes it almost impossible to
not pay medical benefits, as you get taxed more if you don’t have it. Of
course, I don’t work now, however, that, sadly, is not going to last.
Who
still believes that Australia has a free medical scheme?
I
walked across Elizabeth Street. By now, I was feeling so stressed by “my lot”
that I couldn’t think. So, I sat in the mall in the sun and listened to a man
play guitar and harmonica wonderfully. Great. Really great.
And
I took photos of people, all the people, lots of people, none of which really
turned out that well. Ah well. I didn’t have my camera with me, sadly, just my
phone, with the crappy HTC camera. Oh well, boo hoo.
I
came home and took to my bed. Of course. Lovely. Locking myself away in my
room, shutting the world out, depressed? Oh, I don’t know if I am depressed,
just less enthusiastic… with life… with it all.
A
cool breeze blew, which made a nice change.
Jimmy
came to get his brown polyester suit. We sat in the lounge room and chatted for
quite some time. He invited me to his 40th birthday on a hill in
Castlemaine. Camping, with Santo.
Jimmy
tells me there is gaggle of welfare abusers in Castlemaine. I tell him about my
ideas of renting rooms and the dole and wonder why this has come up with him?
Is the universe trying to tell me something now?
“I
used to want to get to the end of my life and want to be able to say that I had
never been on the dole,” I said. “But now, fuck it, I’d abuse the system if
someone would show me how.”
We
both laughed.
I
spoke to Anthony and told him about my worry about mum shitting herself in the
dentist chair tomorrow.
“Don’t
worry, dentists are highly qualified medical professionals. If it happens it
happens, don’t worry.” He laughed. “Shit happens.”
Some
how it didn’t make me feel better.
He’s
been told to take his sling off. His two shoulder blades are better now.
I
spoke to Adriana, on Skype. That was after thinking about her for the last few days,
week. David would say “nszpitipsssszzzzpppttee. See the universe answers you.
There are no coincidences in the world,”
Adi
and I are going to Nova on Monday night to watch The Descendants.
Santo
called me while I was talking to Adi, that hasn’t happened to me on Skype
before. It’s a modern world.
I
called him back, we chatted for ages.
He
tells me I should rent out my two spare rooms and not think about working. I
tell him how Beck said that money on my mortgage doesn’t count towards money in
the bank for the dole. That I can rent the two spare rooms, three in total and
go on the dole too.
“Do
it,” he said.
I
don’t know, I can’t see it.
Then
again… fuck it!
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