Being a new homeowner carries risks. I’ve been aware of theses risks since the day I signed the papers. It was a difficult day. Be the end of the day, I had signed 3000 pieces of paper, two of which I’m pretty sure promised my kidneys to a cult in Utah within the next year.
There are risks. I know. I could mow my foot, electrocute myself, fall down the stairs, nail my hand to a wall. In fact, these nearly happen to me on a daily basis.
But I think I’m getting threats through the mail.
I work alone at home. Human contact is at a minimum. I have files saved on my computer that tell me I did a good job when I complete a task because there’s no one here to tell me that otherwise.
So, in the natural course of the day, two things make me happy. The first is my music collection. I have 14 gigs of music that I can play in varied play lists throughout the day. Right now I’m listening to Ben Folds and will switch to Radiohead later. In fact, I hope to have my whole music collection digitized onto an external hard drive by year’s end. Since have several hundred CDs (I refuse to say how many . . . it’s more than 500 less than 1000) that will take up a dedicated drive. I just have to purchase said drive.
The second thing that makes me happy is getting the mail. In fact, getting the mail is THE highlight of my day. I love getting the mail. It’s a little kiss from the outside world that is decidedly NOT email. I’ve never gotten a letter that has promised that I could increase my breast size by thirty percent through fully natural ways. (Though I have a feeling I will now.)
The mail is special. Sometimes it’s a DVD from Netflix. I know they love me (I have to pay them though). Sometimes it’s a check from a client. That’s special. Sometimes it’s a card from a nephew or niece. Others it’s a magazine. And the Victoria’s Secret catalogue is always a welcome sight for the whole family. Sometimes I get care packages from friends from around the country. The last care package contained cool CDs and coffee. A dangerous combination.
But yesterday I think I was threatened.
All of them started out with “Congratulations on your new home!” Then it went down hill.
“Protect yourself and your family,” it said, “from an untimely death. Have your mortgage taken care of with our mortgage life insurance.”
The first one was okay. Really. I thought, you know that does make sense. I’d hate to die and leave my wife with the mortgage payments.
But by the third one I was getting paranoid. I was expecting phone calls this morning. “It would be a shame if something happened to that pretty little wife of yours.”
To make matters worse, this morning I woke to an open garage door and trash strewn throughout the garage. That our garage door opener has a short and that a raccoon could have torn apart our trash can were beside the point.
In my mind I saw Tony Soprano.
I took out a $3 million life insurance policy today. It covers my mortgage and that of every family member I have, including all 40 some odd cousins.
Every time I think I’m out . . .
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