Thursday, February 12, 2009

Stress

Let me introduce myself. I am Rant Chick. I rant. I have been a legal secretary for decades, I am a single mother, and I believe our adult lives are based on choices, not on God. In fact, it was God that gave us the power of choice. That having been said, right now I'm feeling pretty helpless. I am about to ~pop~ from stress. I deal with my elderly father and my non-driving elderly mother, both of whom have health issues, my mentally ill sister, my friends and acquaintances who ask me for legal help because they cannot afford an attorney. And none of us can afford a psychologist; the insurance company would view seeking mental health benefits as an invitation to raise our premiums.

My biggest crisis though: My mortgage lender was negligent, then fraudulent, in extending a mortgage loan to me. So far, I have lost nearly $100,000 of my savings (which I grew at $20-$25/hour). I am preparing for legal action to address the lender's complete disregard for the law and for state banking regulations. This is not adequate to satisfy my personal disgust. What would I personally consider a just remedy? Did anyone learn about the Spanish Inquisition in history class? Personally, I would really enjoy witnessing the lender being relaxed -- "relaxed", of course, being the polite alternative to saying "I want the people involved in ripping me off to roast like wienees over an open flame. " The lender responsible for my catastrohe is the perfect model of a corporate entity that uses its power to victimize consumers with limited resources. Unfortunately for the lender, my consumer philosophy is "You will feel my pain."

Of course, all of my stress is the product of the choices I have made. I certainly can walk away from responsibility at any time -- file for Chapter 7 bankruptcy protection, put my folks in a state-run nursing home, and tell my friends to go to H-e-l-l. I choose not to do so.

I've been stoic, and even optimistic, under the circumstances in terms of not visiting Starbucks with an automatic weapon. Why Starbucks? Their radio commercials featuring helpful baristas saving anorexic caffeine addicts a hundred calories per latte by using skim milk and sugar-free syrup have pushed me over the edge. Ha. Just kidding. I am afraid of guns.

I believe in the right to bear arms -- however, if I were to own a gun for protection (a fancy word for vigilante power), I envision the following scenario: Burglar with chip on shoulder breaks into my home in the middle of the night. I retrieve my gun from the pocket of last year's winter coat (a fur coat with a PETA blood-colored dye stain perhaps). Burglar with chip on shoulder enters my darkened bedroom, where, having just loaded the only two bullets I own, I now am shaking with tremors of terror. Burglar with chip on shoulder lunges toward me, intent on disarming me and keeping my weapon for, I am positive, future criminal acts. (Or hunting?) My hand shaking, I pull trigger, shoot hole in ceiling. There goes Bullet 1. I prepare to aim and shoot again, tremors apparent, trip, shoot myself in thigh. Burglar with chip on shoulder freaks out, grabs now-empty gun and dashes out of my home... commenting as he leaves that my house is a [bleeping] mess -- ouch -- and escaping in my VW. I suppose this kind of accident could come in handy during a heated session of spousal abuse -- "It was an accident, Detective. I, I, I tripped and the gun went off." "Fourteen times, ma'am?"

I suspect for most people, though, psychologically it is quite difficult to injure or kill a total stranger with a gun. In this scenario, I can picture myself leaning over the first casualty of my crazy shooting rampage, saying, "Oh.Muh.God -- eeew!" and promptly passing out. (What? Congealing blood puddles are gross.) God forbid I would hear the crunch of shattered bone or flesh being torn apart. I might just have to vomit....

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