My Jimmy Fallon “Thank You” Letter

In the words of Jimmy Fallon, “Thank you”…Aetna Health Insurance for changing your pre-qualification policy for the medication that I have been taking for over twenty years. I have gone
through the normal process of having my physician prescribe the medication and when it is running low, I call my pharmacy to have it refilled, then I get in my car and go pick it up.  Not now.  I called it in and was told by my pharmacy that I now need pre-certification to have this medication filled and that I would need to contact my insurance company as well as my doctor.
OH, really? This is for Advair, for severe Asthma.  I need it to breathe to LIVE. 

Advair has successfully managed my Asthma for over twenty years and now I need “pre-certification” for a generic medication instead without any notice of the change?   What would qualify as pre-certification to now have my asthma medication filled and somewhat covered by this wonderful insurance company? Death?
Waiting four days without Advair to get this resolved, I came pretty close. If it was for Thyroid medication or something else, ok.  So I would be a little inconvenienced, but my Asthma medication?  Maybe they will cut me off at 65? God forbid I develop any other maladies.

Not a good sign of what is to come…

"You Better Work, Bit, er uh..Mom"

Have you ever heard the song by Brittney Spears, "You Better Work, Bitch"?  I can't say that in my current set of circumstances that I can relate to her lyrics..."You wanna drive a Maserati? You wanna party in France?"...on & on with other questions about doing wonderful things on various continents and driving additional exorbitantly priced Italian cars.
Great Brittney. You go do that, Brittney. You better work, Bit..rittney.
But I find myself singing along. Yes, I better work, bitch.  I am immediately reminded of the conversation with my husband the previous night regarding work and how I should work additional hours, more...blah, blah...things...more.blah. life...blah blah.  What honey? Of course I want to work until I am 85 or maybe even longer.  Maybe whatever retirement community I end up in will let me work full time there? Or if one of the kids still pays attention to me, they will visit me when I have vacation time. Whatever it takes to? I don't even know what I said.  I tuned out and just wanted to go to bed at that point; so I could be fresh to start the next work day.

Back to the song. I just picked up my 13 year old daughter from Soccer practice and the song comes on the stereo. Of course she knows all of the words and she smiles awkwardly at me when the word "bitch" comes up, like she is getting away with armed robbery.  

Brittney is belting it out: "You wanna drive a Lamborghini? ..." Party in France...You wanna a tight body? You better work, bitch."
I started singing along with Brittney, but with subtle changes..."You wanna go to Publix? Pay for your car insurance? You wanna drive a Chevrolet Equniox? Have a support bra for your saggy boobies...you better work, bitch."

My daughter looked at me like I had lost my mind and replied, " Oh my gosh, you sound just like a suburban mom!"

You think? 
We both laughed and then she tried to coerce me into getting her a $7.00 Smoothie because she had to run laps at practice. ???
No hint of logic to be found.
"You better work, baby".