We Are All Outlaws

In The Eyes Of America

I know I'm dead boring a lot of times lately, but you get what you pay for, so don't cry. I wasn't doing well before my stroke in March and am not recovered to that "good" point yet. Everything is hard to do. I wake up and by the time I'm dressed, have shoes on, count out my daily pills, and leave the bedroom, I'm so damn tired I can't discuss it. I have recently started receiving some "home health care" paid for by some state-administered version of Medicare. They send a "provider" who does the non-nursing tasks, like cleaning rooms, doing laundry, cooking (yet to see that), etc. Not bad so far, but they keep sending a different lady each time, and this seems to me to be something that would benefit from a steady employee, such as is supposed to happen (they say) in the future. But OK so far. It's about the only help I've gotten so far from the gummint and it may continue to be that way for a long time. I don't know how "deserving" I am, but I am certainly "disabled", though perhaps not by any official government or legal definition. I can feel President Bush's tight fist pulling back on every string I attempt to pull. If there is any new democratic President in the future, the tight fist and the stinky breath will still be there a long time, I fear. The wheels of government move slow, except when about to run over orphans, widows, veterans, or cripples with a "per diem" limousine and a don't-give-a-fuck attitude. For those of you who must have entertainment, go HERE for some music.