I also work for a state university and our pensions are based on what they call Final Average Compensation which is determined by taking your average annual salary during the highest 12
consecutive calendar quarters in the last 40 quarters of membership in the state retirement system. So it is somewhat like your suggested way of doing it.
Fucking taxes. This is the first year we have had an HSA and the language is damned near unintelligible. Of course, procrastinating until now doesn’t help.
I have this nice friend on Facebook. University-educated. Presumably intelligent. But then the other day he goes and posts a link to a crowdfunding page for a documentary saying that homeopathy actually works. He had another one of my friends (presumably intelligent) agreeing with him! :smack::smack: And the arguments they used in favour of homeopathy were so incredibly stupid that I don’t even feel like trying to argue. (Plus I don’t want to lose friends over something stupid like that.)
And what’s also sad is that this “documentary” has raised quite a lot of money for itself already. 
I haven’t asked my PCP for a substitute; but the GE told me that clotting is compromised by ALL of the big four NSAIDs: aspirin, acetaminophen, naproxen and ibuprofen. So my Percocet is out.
What substitute medication did your doctor give you?
According to Web MD acedtaminophen is not an NSAID and does not interfere with clotting. Maybe you should talk to your dr. again.
Fucking North Carolina taxes. My mother not only owes state taxes this year, she’s having to pay estimated taxes in anticipation of next year. :mad: And she actually has it pretty good compared to some stories I’ve heard around here.
Seriously, fuck this state.
I filed my taxes back in early March and I’m still waiting for NC to dig through the couch cushions and send me back the change that is my refund.
Acetaminophen with codeine. Acetaminophen is not a NSAID. Mind you , make sure you can take it. There could be another reason.
Someone tried to kick my front door in last night at 8. The door held, but the frame is cracked. Police dogs did track a scent to the neighborhood across the road, where two similar incidents were reported after mine. My neighbor heard something at his front door Friday night, but didn’t investigate at the time…looks like someone kicked his door too.
I had all of my outside lights on, and lights were on throughout the house.
Everyone seems to think it was just bored teenagers playing pranks. Some prank, assholes. :mad:
A “prank” like that could get a bored teenager shot.
A Poem for April Snow
Gossamer globes of God’s own cotton candy
Drift serenely from the sky
Die. Just fuckin’ die.
Just filed my taxes. This is the first year I couldn’t take TheKid as a deduction.
That sucked.
I can’t find my glasses. Anywhere. Which means I have to wear my contacts, even when I’d rather not. And I only have the one current pair, since I usually wear my contacts most days anyway, and my previous pair dates from before my cataract surgery. They’ve got to be somewhere in this house, I just don’t know where!
And I can’t find my camera. It’s in a bright purple and green hand-knitted case, so I should be able to spot it easily, but it’s nowhere to be found. I haven’t actually used it in ages, but it bugs me that I can’t find it.
And I can’t blame the cats, since my glasses (in their case) and the camera are not the right size for cat thievery.
Sorry, acetaminophen is also on the verboten list I was given as a clotting compromiser. Hell, if acetaminophen was permissible, I’d have been continuing to take the percocets for the past three days. I’ve always found codeine to be no better than naproxen for my pain.
And since acetaminophen is anti-inflammatory and has no steroids (and is a drug), I guess I just got confused about what are the qualifications for the NSAID designation. 
Really? Yeah I WILL be talking to him, but unfortunately probably not before Tuesday when I go in for the procedure.
You sure about that? So far as I can tell, even the laws of physics cannot stop a determined klepto-kitty. 
Conversation on the phone with Mom, in between repeating the same story three times, telling me how proud she is that she never tried to define what I was to do with my life (uhhhh… Mom, I was there and somehow my memories don’t match) and explaining to me a movie I’ve already watched and a book I’m not interested in reading:
- She’s been moved to long-term hospitalization, which is in another town (this takes a lot of pressure off my brothers, good).
- The doctors expect to be able to run a biopsy this week.
- She’s not dying from this because nobody has mentioned the big C.
Right Mom. After all, when your father in law died from stomach cancer, two of his brothers from liver cancer and stomach cancer, your husband of mesothelioma (cancer of the pleural sac), your sister has had breast cancer twice fifteen years apart, her husband died of stomach cancer, your sister in law had breast cancer and now has mesothelioma, and your father spent years going to the hospital every three months to have his colon polyps treated, we’re supposed to believe that biopsies are done to check if you need more lettuce in your diet.
And when everybody else in the family whose CoD is known died of something else (including peritonitis; she’s hospitalized due to an intestinal infection), we’re supposed to believe that “the big C” is the only possible CoD.
I mini-pit myself, for being an idiot: last night I attempted to use my house mate’s mandoline, and now one of my fingers is slightly shorter than I normally prefer.
We have a local minor injuries unit, so I spent what should have been my evening for sorting stuff out waiting there to get it professionally wrapped up (glad I thought to bring a book- last time I went there there was a 20 minute wait, last night it was 3 hours), and get a tetanus booster. Bah.
I have loads of stuff I need too do that really requires the use of my right hand, preferably incluidi ng my middle finger- including moving bedrooms, loads of gardening stuff and my job, plus of course saluting fellow bad drivers.
Hopefully work will be OK if I show up with my own pack of disposable gloves, and I can hopefully get help with the room move. Maybe.
The fries I made wound up soggy too, just to add insult to injury.
Or you could get the stomach flu I got last week, and then you wouldn’t have to pick. You could have both! As well as feeling like your stomach was trying to digest itself by secreting a huge amount of acid.
Then, last night around 1am, Lil’ Neville coughed so much that she vomited up mucus. Now I can’t send her to day care today.
So, I had to re read that three times before I realized you weren’t injured strumming a little guitar.