Now that I’ve gone political, I can’t go back. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Apropos to all of the 47% "you assholes think you're entitled to food and medicine" shenanigans, I thought I would share this little diatribe I wrote all the way back in 2009. Interestingly enough, I wrote it two weeks BEFORE Ike-a-saurus was admitted to the PICU and trached. Just think of how much of a drain on society we've been since then! The mind, it boggles.

Anyway, this was in response to something someone wrote on a listserv that really pissed me off. I can't remember exactly what she wrote, but I'm pretty sure it had something to do with leeching off of society and how irresponsible jobless people are open sores on the arse of America. Or some such.

I bring you… an open letter to myself (which, if I took some time and energy could be adapted and edited to be an open letter of apology to the non-47%. But I am tired, and I think it still works pretty well. I thought about updating it with a paragraph about how WIC bought our groceries for a while, but I think I'll save that for another post.)

        Dear Self,

I was just sitting here, working on my irresponsible husband's resume, and nursing my wee drain on the healthcare system, and I thought to myself, Self, you are one dumb lady. First you become a writer. Then you marry an artist. Then you encourage your husband to use his artistic skills to become the creative director of his own web development company. Then you have babies and decide to quit your low-paying copywriter job to stay at home with them because your paycheck barely covered insurance and childcare. 

Dumb! 

Then, Self, you go and do a really stupid thing. After you encourage your husband to take a highly-paid position at an advertising agency, with benefits and paid family leave, you find yourself knocked up again. Idiot! Then, when the pregnancy goes south and the doctor tells you to terminate your pregnancy at 20 weeks (because you already have two kids, and why not just start from scratch instead of being inconvenienced with a troubled pregnancy?), you say no. 

Moron!

But really, either way you were screwed, Self. Terminate at 20 weeks? The A-word? In Texas? In a city dominated by religious-based hospitals? Or keep the pregnancy? Possibly give birth to a sick baby? Possibly make yourself sick in the process? Cost your insurance company money by having them pay for – gasp – medical care? Cost yourself money by paying for medical care your insurance refused to cover? Well, Self, you chose the extra-selfish route didn't you? You chose to keep the baby. You chose to depend on modern medicine and a village of people to sustain you through the worst time of your life. 

What a waste of resources! 

All of that free food your family got. All of those expensive shots to quickly strengthen your baby's lungs. People could have used that money to buy themselves new clothes and fancy cars – you know to stimulate the economy that you, Self, seem so intent of draining with all of your pesky "needs" and "almost dyings."

And now, Self? Now that you have three wonderful children, a depleted savings account (from helping out the poor unfortunate insurance company that couldn't cover things like placental pathology or diagnostic ultrasounds)… now you have more hospital bills to pay (that's another thing, Self, how dare you let your preemie get croup? Even by keeping him in the house at all times, never taking him out, not letting anyone touch him, you still got him sick, you douche).  

Now, on top of that, your irresponsible husband didn't predict that his job – ironically serving the growing field of healthcare – would be eliminated last Friday. His benefits were severed promptly at midnight. Paying for medicine, food, follow-up care for the croupy preemie you should have never had, enrichment activities for your kids so they don't end up as a creative like you… well that's going to be a challenge.

So now, Self, you're fucked. And it's your own goddamn fault for irresponsibly having children when the economy was in good shape; for encouraging your husband to take a good job; and for burdening society with trying to keep your baby alive.

You, Self, are a drain on the system. An irresponsible, self-serving, entitled, liberal, breeding plague on society. Maybe you should do something about that. Go to medical school! Except then you'd have to get tax-payer supported government loans, put your kids in daycare, infect them with germs, have to take them to the doctor, drain society, rinse repeat.

Your fiscal irresponsibility is stunning, Self. Better not make it worse by filing for public assistance. Can't keep bothering people and trying to cash in on all those taxes you've paid. THAT would be selfish.

I know, Self! Just spend your last $15 on a t-shirt that says, "Sorry." Everyone will be happy to hear your apology, AND you will be helping the economy! 

Get on it.

Love,
Yourself 

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3 thoughts on “Now that I’ve gone political, I can’t go back. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

  1. Kari,
    You have one of the most brilliant satirical minds and one of the biggest human hearts of any one I know. Keep kicking political ass. You may find yourself on a ballot one day!

    Like

  2. It took me a while to figure out this was sarcasm. Satire? It reads like a straightforward confession.
    Let’s recap: you and your husband crippled your ability to save for the future by holding low-paying jobs for years. Then you chose to reject your doctor’s advice to terminate a high-risk (i.e., very expensive, both at the time and in the future) pregnancy. You sneer at the insurance companies for not covering 100% of the unusually high costs of having this particular baby (did your insurance policy mention what was and wasn’t covered? I’ll bet it did.)
    Then when the finances blow up, you contemplate enlisting at the welfare office, while snarling that the village you assumed would support you has failed you, and that it’s your money anyway. You want the freedom to make whatever choices you want, and the security of having other people be forced to pay the costs when you get in over your head.
    “Your fiscal irresponsibility is stunning, Self.” Let that one breathe for a moment, shall we?

    Like

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