One of my co-workers mentioned today, in reference to my eternal stream of bad luck, that they say when you have lots of trials, there is that much more happiness and joy in the payback that comes around. She laughingly said that it looked like my place in heaven is gonna be rockin'! I told her that I hoped it comes soon, but then I thought about what I had said and thought...well. Maybe not yet! I remember talking with my daddy about heaven and hell as a kid, trying to wrap my little bitty mind around the concept of forever. He told me then, and I still believe to this day...that he saw heaven as here on earth, and hell too. It is, quite simply, what you make of the gift of life that was given to you by Big Ernie. A grateful attitude for that life, in spite of trials and tribulations over the rough spots, is the only way I've survived this financial disaster of a life of mine. I'm a well educated healthcare professional who gets paid a decent salary but forks over much it to the government. The one that I don't much care for, by the way.
So far, Tennessee has no payroll tax because our sales tax is almost 10%, even on food. I see our state lottery as a double edged sword. The income boost for state coffers has been tremendous, yet our state healthcare program treats many of those who have nothing more to look forward to in life than winning a jumbo buck. All income brackets play, but the ones who really seem to get that gleam in their eyes are always the ones who need it most. I remember one time a friend took me to a casino and kept shoving hundred dollar bills at me to play.play.play! I caught myself wondering if she would notice if I kept two or three for the rent ;) I have several vices, but gambling is definitely not one of them.
I have decided today that the GOP is much craftier than I give them credit for. After all this hooray with Cain and Perry and the women, now Newt Gingrich is looking like the golden boy. President Newt? Oh boy. I hope he doesn't get offended easily at state dinners. I read the first chapter of Dubya's memoir today, about the quitting. He is a personable man who didn't have a clue what he had gotten himself into and listened to all the wrong people at all the wrong times. But then again, many other presidents have done the same. I never thought I'd see the day that I failed to blame him for the wars, but considering what's happened in the meantime, I would shift that blame to the finance industry. Money makes the world go around and the devil tapdance.
Faith's boyfriend is hanging around hoping to see his honey while it's still "on". He's a beautiful red shorthaired dog with a boxer sort of face and big sad eyes. I feel sure I can get him to pose shortly. The other day there were THREE boys in the yard circling and we locked her down. One was a chihuahua, no less. BG and I tried to figure out how he would manage that one with a lab!
Peace out ya'll ^j^
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