Yesterday I was in the waiting room of my doctor’s office waiting to get the physical I need before I begin my phlebotomy class. A half-hour before I left home, I’d received a call about the annuity from my late-ex’s (I guess I’ll start referring to him as my latex) estate for which I am listed as the beneficiary. I had been assured I would receive it; it would have paid for our daughter’s health insurance. To make a long story short, I was told I will not get the annuity.

Like the unemployment benefits situation, I was promised what would have really been a help to us.

Let’s Make a Deal is on the TV in the waiting room. As Curtain #2 opens, a woman dressed like a Christmas festivity sees headlights. She claps her hands in delight. No, it’s not a good prize, says Wayne Brady, as someone drives offstage with only the front half of a “Zonk” car.

I feel ya, lady.

But I decided I was not about to let the Universe f**k me again. I went in there and told the nurse I was stressed. When she cuffed the blood pressure monitor on my arm, I told her I was going to breathe deeply.

94/62.

Take that, Universe!

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