Third Culture Kid(s)

M. is on the tail end of his major yakudoshi, which is a series of three years (the middle one being the Big Bad one) in which the world is actually against you.  I contend that since his birthday is in December he’s actually having residual year #2 bad luck, which would go a long way towards explaining where he’s at right now.

It’s not my place to discuss his problems online, but I will say that things have been very hard for him lately.  There’s not much hope on the horizon, either, which causes no small stress around here.

A more mundane problem is that the money we thought we’d have for a new scooter seems to have up and disappeared.  You can see where it went if you look at the bank statement, but, in the meantime, it means that he has to clunk along on his decrepit scooter for at least another half a year.  The last time it broke, repair costs and the cost of renting a replacement set us back over $600, so we’re really hoping it can hold together until we can get another one.  The kicker is that, while our insurance would help defray the costs of a scooter IF M. were completely disabled, if he’s even marginally ambulatory that’s out of the question.  Never mind that it would be excruciatingly painful and difficult for him to commute to work without the scooter - he can walk, but that doesn’t mean he can do it well and without pain or effort.  It’s one thing around the house; it’s entirely another when it’s across the street, up the slope in the tunnel, through the turnstile, up the elevator - perchance to sit down on the train - then out the station and three blocks down the road.

So, pffffffffffft.  I can’t personally complain about our insurance, of course; they do 100% of maternity costs, so I’m winning there.  But this ambulatory/unambulatory thing is a little ridiculous in our situation.

And the baby bear said bitch, bitch, bitch.  I’ll quit whinging now.