Hideous Cars Episode 3, and some long whingeing

 Look out folks, a new grill just dropped.

The Mouth of Sauron.

I realised I totally forgot to post this last time. Please, dear readers, look at this and tell me you do not see an anime laughing face.

It's literally this.

How can anyone take this car seriously?

So one issue I've had recently is cars like Porsche and Maserati making SUVs. 

WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK is the point of getting a Maserati if you're going to go with a SUV??

But those do not even hold a candle to the unholy behemoth I saw the other day.

THAT IS AN ABOMINATION IN THE EYES OF THE LORD.

First of all, no self respecting aristocrat drives their own Bentley. That's almost as bad as people who drive their own Rolls Royce. If you drive it because you work weddings, fine. If you're driving the Rolls that you bought to show off how much money you have, you're doing it WRONG. You're a poser and utterly uncultured. 

In other news, my dearest Prius C, Gyr (pronounced "grr") has departed this life. That car has survived attacks from others cars and a deer. "Car destroyed by the ocean" was definitely not on my bingo card for potential life disasters, but here I am. 

So on Wednesday evening, I went down to Long Beach Island, New Jersey with my parents, Lil Bros 1 and 2, and soon-to-be-SIL for a long weekend. Yeah we saw the coastal flood warnings, but we're regular visitors of LBI. We've been going there for decades, we've weathered the floods that often hit the Island, so we thought it'll be fiiiiiine, yeah it's not beach weather but we can still have a nice long weekend together.

Y'ALL

It was not fine.

I have never seen flooding like that on LBI since Hurricane Sandy. We were stranded in stepmom's cousin's house for 3 days. The street was underwater starting in the wee hours of Saturday morning, and it did not recede enough to drive out until Sunday night. My parents' SUV and my brother's Subaru only had water up to just barely below their baseboards.

My Gyr? Seawater got into the car, and into the hybrid battery. Car is fucked. My baby Gyr, who I've driven since 2015 for 375,000 miles, was destroyed by the ocean. 

Whatever money my insurance gives me will not come even close enough to buy a used car. So I, at age 43, have to go begging my dad and stepmom for money to help me buy another car.

I know I am incredibly lucky that I have parents who not only have the money to spare but are willing to give it to me, but I hate that I have to ask them for so much. My other options are.... nothing. I have no savings and don't earn enough to put money into savings. I live in the US, I make barely enough to live as a FUCKING PARALEGAL because rent is so insanely expensive, and I have no assets. I will never be able to afford to stop working full time or ever buy a house. I am barely surviving largely because I have $15,000+ in debt from a combo of medical and auto emergencies that insurance wouldn't cover.

It took a huge amount of restraint for me, Sunday night, not to walk to the end of the road and just dive into the ocean. I thought about it. I REALLY thought about it. But I have 2 cats who need me, and both are "special needs" enough that I don't trust anyone else to take care of them. If that's a stupid reason to want to keep living I don't care.

Those 2 assholes didn't even give me a happy welcome home, they just ran under the bed.

Ugh.

If you've kept reading this far, thanks. I hope you're having a much better time than I am.

State of the Blog Address .....again

 

It's been over six months since I vanished without explanation. I'll probably do that again in the near future, but for the moment, I have returned. Idk if anyone is still out there reading at this point. It's been that kind of year. 

 

2021 got off to an interesting start. I spent a week in January confined to a psych ward following a suicide attempt, and am still under constant supervision. M has been living with me since they let me out of the Home for the Bewildered and miraculously, I have not attempted to kill him yet.  It has actually been kind of nice having someone staying with me. I'm also on all new medications and am no longer suicidal. My family is monitoring my every move, and you never knew how many good friends you have until you almost died.

Bossman's wild weekends with his various girlfriends finally landed him bedridden with Covid-19. Even if the social worker had not ordered me to ease slowly back into full time employment, I would probably be working part time because there is NOTHIIIIINNNNNGG to do at the office. 

Baby Yoda has somehow amassed nearly 500 followers on Instagram. 

Am I officially an influenzaer now?

This is still a weird time for me. It feels like it will take a long time to feel normal, like a person again. Big Sis#2 still wakes up in the middle of the night screaming because she was the one who found me in a pool of blood in my living room. That's my fault. I did that to her. I traumatized her. I will never not feel horrible about that. I will never not feel horrible about making my mothers and father cry. About giving my siblings the fright of a lifetime. 

My cats are treating me like the worthless minimum wage employee I am (as far as they're concerned) for leaving them alone with M and the combined forces of StepMom and Mum for a week. 

Until next time, when I may or may not explain how a mothertrucking CAT was basically the start and end of the above events. 

 

You probably don’t remember this, but a week ago, I shot your bear and punched you.

Sooooooo back in November I pre-ordered a Baby Yoda/The Child from the Disney shop the second it became available to pre-order. I did not receive it until May,* by which point I had more or less forgotten that I pre-ordered Baby Yoda to begin with.  

He arrived hidden amongst the other boxes of office supplies that were dropped outside the office that day. When I opened that box and found THE CHILD, both Bossman and I lost approximately 45 minutes of productive work time. Mostly posing Baby Yoda in various spots in our new office. 

Because I am a normal grown ass adult, I naturally have turned my instagram account into a Baby Yoda mommy blog. It started out as a funny idea a friend and I had to troll all the so-called influencers. But

Y'ALL

I'm pretty sure every single person who now has their Baby Yoda has started up an instagram account. It's absurd. I love it. 

Here's a photo of Baby the day he came home.

Also my hair is now purple

I can colour my hair no problem, but I'm waaaayyyyy too nervous to lighten it on my own. So with no more salon appointments, the only other option was to dye my hair purple. 

Follow @caelesto on insta to see just how much of my mind I have lost. 




















*The fact that Disney could not foresee the global phenomenon of a Baby Yoda blows my mind.

Mediocre At Best

Lil Bro#2 has been running a podcast for a while now. I appeared on last week's episode, and I think it was absolutely brilliant, in my humble opinion. 

Pretty much every episode is just Lil Bro#2 and his buddy rambling about everything and nothing. It's good craic. So give it a listen if you're bored and wish to be mildly entertained. 

You can find the podcast here, and also on the podcast phone app. If you're interested in the amazing playlist we discuss during episode 19, you can find it on Spotify if you search "Mediocre At Best - Easy Listening Mix." Listen to the songs in the order they are listed for the fully immersive experience.

In other news......... there isn't any.

Have you ever wondered why so many crazy people refuse to take their medication?

I have arrived at a dilemma faced by countless writers and artists before me.

I think my medication is causing the writers block.

It set in for the long haul around the same time I started taking antidepressants. And the writing died entirely when they upped my dose. I've also lost the desire to go out and take photos. Now I'm having a harder and harder time coming up with new ideas to illustrate as well.

Never in my life was there a time when I did not have stories bouncing around in my head 24/7. I'm not sure when they stopped, but they have most definitely stopped. Nothing. I used to wonder what normal people thought about all day if their heads weren't constantly occupied with coming up with new fiction stories. Now I want to know how normal people survive this deafening silence.

So what to do? Stop the meds and risk sinking back into suicidal depression and anorexia? I've still got one foot in that particular grave, so I'm kind of nervous as to what will happen if I go off the antidepressants.

At the same time, life is empty and pointless without all the art I used to love creating. Sure the illustrations have sustained me a little, but it's not the same as when I was writing. I feel like a hollow shell of a person. Should I sacrifice a mentally unstable life for a totally lifeless medicated one?

I just don't know. Thoughts? Suggestions? Here's some ridiculous mushrooms:

I would never lie. I willfully participated in a campaign of misinformation.

This is sort of a a re-run from a few years ago, but since my stupidity repeats itself over and over again, I suppose so can a blog post.

I do not smoke certain substances because the side effects outweigh any pleasantness that might be gained from smoking them. Normally I don't go in for conspiracy theories and all of that nonsense, BUT get me stoned, and it's a whole different story.

I have blocked up windows. I have searched entire houses for listening devices and cameras. 

This one time, years ago, I came home stoned and panicked when I found Lil Sis video-chatting on the computer. She left the webcam turned on even when she wasn't using the computer, and I disagreed with this because the government is watching us through our idle web cam, and listening to everything we say.

So naturally I yanked the web cam out of the computer and ran off with it. Lil Sis says I "hid it" somewhere so the government couldn't see anything. We never found it.

But this paranoia pales in comparison to my paranoia of aliens. 

Because I am an intelligent person who learns from past experiences, yesterday I decided to say yes when a friend offered me a puff of a smokey treat

and then

we proceeded to watch Dark Skies,






which is about really terrifying aliens. 

Guess who alternated between nightmares and laying awake absolutely petrified last night?

MICH DID.  

-____-


FUNNY STORY:

This one time in college when we decided to hot-box the bunk beds in my friend's dorm room--we had run out of our own stuff, so Friend called his roommate and asked if we could have some of his. Sure, Roommate said, it's in the top drawer.

Roommate calls back 10 minutes later and says OH MY GOD, please tell me you took some of the stuff in the bag on the LEFT side of the drawer...

We had already smoked out of the bag on the right.

The last thing I remember is getting incredibly distraught over the fact that Friend had three televisions in his living room, so he could watch tv, watch a dvd, and play video games all at the same time.

Friend said that he went to the bathroom and when he came back, I was gone. My roommate said she found me passed out in the closet of our bedroom with my blankets and pillows in there with me.

This, my friends, is why no one should do angel dust. Ever.

Try not to make a noise in the bathroom, dear.

Lil Sis and I went to Kohl's on Saturday. She wanted to get some working out clothes in an attempt to motivate herself to actually workout. I tagged along as Kohl's is extremely cheap, and at this point nearly all of my clothes have holes in them or are just completely falling apart.*

So I grabbed some autumn/winter shirts to try on, and some sweaters and tank tops because you can never have too many sweaters or tank tops, especially if you can find tank tops without the stupid built-in "bra." As I would be wearing most of those shirts with my black jeans once the weather stops sucking, I also grabbed a pair of black jeans in the juniors section so I could see how the shirts would look with black jeans.

Trying on clothes in a shop should not be a big deal. But when you have suffered an eating disorder, trying on clothes in a shop is a big f**king deal. It can be about as traumatic an experience as an ex-soldier who suffers from PTSD suddenly hearing gunshots outside his house.

Approximately 15 seconds after entering the changing room, I tried to put on the black jeans. Mudd jeans, size 3.

They were too small.

THEY

WERE

TOO

EFFING

SMALL.

I almost had a total meltdown in the dressing room at Kohl's.

It was downhill from there. Nothing fit. I looked like a frigging beluga in every shirt I tried on.

 Nothing can unravel your sanity quite like trying on new clothes, because it is a surefire way to discover precisely how fat you have gotten.

Lil Sis tried to console me by telling me over and over again that I can't really judge myself based on the number on a pair of skinny jeans made for teenage girls. I understand the sense in this, but it doesn't help. I'm too fat for size 3 jeans. This is catastrophic. This is one of the worst things that could ever happen. I should be taken out back and shot like a rabid dog.

I realize that I am being ridiculous, I really do. But knowing that and dealing with it are two different things.

On a day-to-day basis, I wear long skirts, or sweatpants that are a few sizes too big. The skirts do not have a size. This past winter, I started wearing jeans again, and even that was a major accomplishment because the four pairs of jeans that I own are Express size 2, which would have sent me over the edge a few years ago and been categorized as "fat pants," but are now "safe."

3 in juniors/teens sizes is pushing it. 5 = death.

The response I get from voicing this is fairly unanimous across the board: "Shut the f**k up, at least you can still squeeze yourself into a 3; I can't even fit in [insert ##], etc etc etc"

so I do my best to swallow the despair and keep quiet, because the last thing I want to do is make someone else feel badly about their body. Lil Sis hovers between sizes 4 and 6 (or 5 and 7 in juniors), but I don't look at her and think she's fat. She has an amazing figure. She looks like she paid ten figures for her boobs. (In our family Lil Sis definitely wins at boobs). Lil Sis looks amazing.

Why the helllllllllllllll can't I look at myself the same way I look at other people??

I spent the rest of the weekend in a state of intense agitation. As a result of this stress, my digestive system is now in open rebellion. And because the ED monster was awoken in the Kohl's dressing room, instead of taking the medication that would settle my stomach issues, I'm just letting the IBS run rampant because I know it's making me lose weight. It's not the kind of weight loss that will stay off, but it makes me feel better.

Feeling happy and comforted in a state of digestive agony and extreme dehydration should not happen. It goes against all of the laws of nature.

But sure just eat something, your eating disorder isn't really an Illness now is it.

IN OTHER NEWS I am getting pretty good at playing the Rains of Castamere on the upright bass with the bow. A video of this may be forthcoming.

*I can't sew very well, but I can embroider, and embroidering techniques will make repairs to clothes last much longer.

I am incapable of making decisions.

FRIENDS, ROMANS, COUNTRYMEN, LEND ME YOUR EARS.

Or your eyes, I guess, as this is all words on a screen and not me actually verbally rambling. 

I HAVE FOUND AN APARTMENT. 

It's a really frigging nice one, too. Like it's not even an apartment, it's a house. Living room, kitchen, and closets downstairs, 2 bedrooms, full bathroom, and more closets upstairs. 

And they only want $725 per month, plus utilities. 

guys

$725

that's like nothing

So naturally, the moment the owner told me they had approved me as a possible tenant (ahead of the 3 other people interested in the place), I began second guessing myself.

I attempted to make a pros and cons chart, which is as follows:

I asked the property manager person about maintenance (as I do not want to get stuck in the same situation as last time), and she said there is someone on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. The only drawback is that they are nearly an hour away, which I don't see as much of a problem, since my last landlord was only 4 minutes away and yet nothing ever got fixed unless my life was in imminent danger. 

 I don't want to rush into a decision, but at the same time, places like this do not come on the market in Orange County very often, and when they do they get snatched up immediately. This house, for example--the property owners listed it on Monday, and already 4 people are in line to rent it. 

I think I just need some more xanax, and a few days to think. But WHAT SAY YOU out there reading? I've always thought it wise to get as many perspectives as possible when it comes to making large decisions. 


 On top of stressful decision making, I also apparently have a pinched nerve in my back, which requires physical therapy. And IT EFFING HURTS. Hope y'all are having a better week.






*The "neighbourhood" is comprised of a bunch of farms, a couple other little duplexy things like the one I want, and an itty bitty village with one pub and an antique book shop.

so don't cremate me when I'm gone, I won't be gone for long

Hey y'all. It's been a while.

So my trip to the doctor from the last post ended with me getting diagnosed with IBS (and there I was thinking that all my digestive issues were just normal) and put on a diet of mostly protein and veggies (because my body has decided it is incapable of digesting processed sugar, bread, rice, pasta, or anything similar), plus a probiotic supplement.

I imagine that the bulk of my tummy woes are the result of years of disordered eating and not IBS, but whatevs.

In other news....

I went to see the Handsome Family in NYC on August 30th, and had several panic attacks throughout the day beforehand because M. bailed at the last second and I am TERRIFIED of going into the city (any city) at night alone.

It turned out kind of awesome though, because I made friends with the people behind me on line outside the Mercury Lounge and gave away M.'s ticket to one of them, and also got to meet the band, and got some great photos.

Rennie Sparks is lovely and I'm pretty sure she's a faerie or something.

if you picked Rennie, you fail at life

Last Saturday I went to see Th' Legendary Shack Shakers in Asbury Park. I was a little disturbed by the intense amount of skankage going on in front of the stage. I like to pretty much sit on the stage and take pictures, but sadly I couldn't get as close as I normally would without getting drenched in STD's.

J.D. Wilkes made up for this by shooting snot rockets into the crowd of under-dressed over-drunk girls, and playing the song I had requested on the band's facebook page.

The first band, Whiskey Shivers was glorious. I have never before met someone who has a mullet and is also GORGEOUS.

Also the entire band went on stage with no shoes, and they all look like they just crawled out of a swamp. Their music is really good, I bought a CD and have had this song on repeat for like a week:

This weekend, I turn 30. Mumsy is throwing a party for all of her friends because I said I didn't want any fuss (parties = fuss). (She did this for my 16th birthday and my college graduation as well.) I'm more excited about going out for dinner Saturday to my fav restaurant.

I am preparing to gain an absurd amount of weight, as after my birthday weekend, Anorexic Auntie and Loud Auntie shall be arriving from Ireland. You remember them.

the four horsewomen of the apocalypse, from left to right: Loud Auntie, Mumsy, Anorexic Auntie, and Bipolar Auntie

We will most likely be eating out every night that they are here, so I should probably be going out right now to buy several more pairs of sweatpants for when none of my clothes fit me.

You know what's fecking amazing?

Quick Chek harvest spice coffee.

hello friends

I'm still here; I know it's been a while.......

Between work, weddings, etc., I've not had much free time for blogging. At the moment I'm sick AGAIN and trying to remain both conscious and coherent while a fever addles my brain. Took yesterday off work, but we know how Bossman feels about sick days, so I am now back at the office.  

I am no longer sure what hurts and what doesn't.

Also don't think I have enough money to pay the co-pay at the doctor, so I shall have to remain sick until I get paid on Friday. Mumsy has not stopped harping on about going to the doctor since Sunday evening. If the fever doesn't drive me to complete insanity, she will.

Good times.

*~*an update*~*

Bossman, who is possibly the biggest hypochondriac that ever lived, chased me out of the office with the Lysol spray, threw $20 at me, and demanded I go to the doctor. According to the doctor, I have a "severe upper respiratory infection." Since my medical history shows that I am prone to going straight from upper respiratory infections to bronchitis to emergency room, I was prescribed very strong antibiotics. They make me nauseous. 

I give up. It is now ten past seven in the evening and I am going to bed.

an update

I am so sick of this mother-effing snow I could vomit. 

And you know if I'M sick of snow it's really bad. 

Officially over a week at Mum's house. 

It's supposed to snow again tomorrow.

T.T

I miss my house. Went there yesterday to get more clothes really just stand there and cry. The ground in front of my steps, and also the ground directly outside my door have more or less turned into an ice skating rink. And the driveway is a mess, and since it is a vertical climb onto the road, my car cannot really exit the driveway without risking death by head-on collision.

What this means is that I am stuck at Mum's until the snow in my driveway melts enough that I can drive up to the road normally, as opposed to backing all the way up to the barn and then flooring it and praying there are no cars coming. 

UUUGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I just want to be back in a place where no one judges me for having 2 or 3 ok fine like 4 or 5 glasses of wine with dinner. 

We've been stuck in the house twice so far.

snow piled up outside the back door--it's twice as high now

the deck last Thursday

the deck as of Monday

We cannot go out the back door because there are 5-foot long deathtraps icicles hanging from the roof. 

upstairs bathroom window--I can't see outside unless I stand on something

I spent all last Thursday attempting to make my hair more Viking-like.

Like Lagertha.

Because she f*cking rules.

I'm getting better at it. Need to go to Harmon and invest in some more hair styling stuffs. Also need to find chains to braid into my hair. 

I am actually at work on a holiday. 

Like I went into work on my day off, when Bossman isn't even in the country, to do filing. 

I am that bored. 

OMG NEWS I ALMOST FORGOT. 

Book 3, Westley and the Witches, should be hitting the virtual shop shelves THIS WEEK. 

So, you know, y'all should probably go read the first two in anticipation. They might be free on kindle at some point during the week....

Back to the filing I go!

-____________-

when the going gets weird.....

The leader of my writing group sent out her monthly newsletter with this fun little writing exercise/survey in it. Since I am AWFUL at coming up with book titles, I kind of enjoyed this. (The questions all come from a book by Will Dunne, The Dramatic Writer's Companion, which I've been told is very good.)

......I did not, however, come up with a better title for the book in question. "apocalypse thingy" it remains. 

What do you other writers think? Do you have title troubles as well? Do this with me!!

What would your title be if it . . .

1. Summed up your whole story in a single word? (examples: Proof, Cats, Hairspray) Apocalypse

  2. Used so many words we could barely remember them all? (example: Oh Dad, Poor Dad, Mama's Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feeling So Sad) ...I couldn't think of an answer for this one

  3. Asked a question? (example: What Price is Glory?) What Do We Do Now?

  4. Issued an order, warning, or advice? (example: Play It Again, Sam; Don't Drink The Water) Use Your Common Sense

  5. Named your main character? (example: Hamlet, Tiny Alice) Brick

  6. Described your main character? (example: The Lord of the Rings, The Miracle Worker)  School's Biggest Nerd Becomes Fearless(Not Really) Leader in the Midst of the End of the World

  7. Issued a statement from the main character? (example: I Married a Werewolf) This sucks.

  8. Named your two most important characters? (example: Romeo & Juliet) ...couldn't answer this either because there really aren't two "most important" characters...

  9. Described a set of characters? (example: The Odd Couple, Angels in America) The Only People Left on Earth are Children, a Convicted Killer, and a Battered Housewife/Redneck. (<--this one has potential I think)

10. Highlighted the setting? (example: Our Town, Little Shop of Horrors) Anywhere Safe in Upstate New York

11. Highlighted the date or era? (Twelfth Night, Year of Living Dangerously) Armageddon 2012

12. Focused on something physical? (Schindler's List, The Diary of Anne Frank) We Might Need More Guns

13. Highlighted a certain feeling or mood? (Wicked) Doomed

       

14. Combined two elements usually not matched? (example: Arsenic and Old Lace, Cries and Whispers) ...couldn't come up with an answer for that

15. Suggested a lesson? (How the West Was Won) How to Survive Puberty with No Parents, No Electricity, No Running Water, and Oh Yeah Nuclear Fallout is Pretty Much Everywhere So Get Your Arses into the Forest Like Now. (<-- this is also a potential winner)

16. Were a metaphor? (The Silence of the Lambs, A Doll's House, The Lion in Winter) yeah I'm no good with coming up with those kinds of artsy metaphors

17. Summed up the main event? (Waiting for Godot, Death of a Salesman) Finding a Safe Place When There Really Aren't Any

18. Identified the subject of the story? (A Beautiful Mind) The End of The World Sort Of

19. Identified the genre or category of your story? (Pulp Fiction) Middle Grade Apocalyptic Fiction (btw this genre did not exist until I just invented it)

20. Made a literary allusion? (Of Mice and Men, Brave New World, Gaudy Night)  ummm... there's a bunch of Old Testament allusions in the book but I feel like any title I come up with relating to that will just sound trite.....

...in other news, I am still a starving writer. But I get paid today, so hopefully I will be somewhat less starving. 

America... just a nation of two hundred million used car salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns and no qualms about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable.

Continuing my quest to transfer my life from New Jersey to New York....

So Progressive wouldn't give me car insurance when I tried to get it last week because I could not furnish enough proof that I live in New York. If you don't have a NY drivers license, then they need either a W2, proof of homeowner's or renter's insurance, at least two utility bills, or a paystub. 

I could furnish none of these things--my W2 doesn't have the new address; I only pay for electricity, so I only get one utility bill; and I write my own paychecks at work, so they're not like official paychecks that show all the tax deductions, and therefore Progressive said that's not good enough.

I shall use the World's Most Accurate Rage Scale to describe my feelings from this point on:

Today I purchased renter's insurance. I called Progressive and sent them the declaration page, and said okay can y'all please give me insurance now because my current policy kind of ends in 3 days.

A summary of my conversation with Progressive this morning:

Mich: So you have the renter's insurance policy now with my New York address, can I get the car insurance now?

Progressive Salesman: Hmmmm... yeah I'm looking at it now and it looks like your renter's insurance isn't enough proof of address. We're going to need a W2, a paystub, or maybe you could send us two utility bills?

Mich: ...but your list of stuff said renter's insurance was good enough proof of address.

Progressive Salesman: Yes, well it looks like we'll still need a W2, a paystub, two utility bills, or a copy of your New York driver's license.

Mich: I don't have any of those. And don't even get me f*cking started on the driver's license.

Progressive Salesman: ...you don't have any utility bills? Or a W2?

Mich: I only pay for one utility and therefore only have ONE bill. And since, as I have already told you and your associates, I JUST MOVED, my W2 has my old address on it.

Progressive Salesman: Okay then... Well I'll tell you what we can do. We'll sign you up for auto insurance using your New Jersey address, and then you can transfer it to New York as soon as you have the proof of address.

Mich: Ummmm.... okay, that works I guess. Sign me up for New Jersey insurance. 'Cause I kind of need car insurance like now.

Progressive Salesman: ...Oh I'm sorry, I just spoke to my supervisor and it looks like we can't sign you up for New Jersey insurance because you live in New York.

Mich: ....................what.

Progressive Salesman: Sorry ma'am*, but we can't give you New Jersey auto insurance because you live in New York. 

Mich: ...So you can't give me New York car insurance because I can't prove that I live in New York, and you can't give me New Jersey car insurance because I live in New York. 

Progressive Salesman: I'm sorry, ma'am.

Mich: You do realize how ridiculous that is. 

Progressive Salesman: Sorry ma'am. 

Mich: *facedesk*

Progressive Salesman: What I would do, ma'am, is go to another company like Allstate or Farmers and sign up for an auto insurance policy with them under your New Jersey address. And then switch to New York once you have proof of your new address.

Mich: So what you're telling me is that in order to obtain car insurance, I should commit insurance fraud. 

Progressive Salesman: I'm sorry ma'am. 

Mich: . . .

Progressive Salesman: Is there anything else I can help you with today?

aaaaaaaaaaaaaand so now I have just lied to my old insurance salesman and told him I moved back to New Jersey. 

To top it all off, the stress has been giving me near-constant headaches, which has forced me to actually wear my glasses. >:(

look how smart I am

UUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH






*Can I just say that I really really really really really really really really really frigging hate being called "ma'am."