The Public Option

After some tricky cuts around the ceiling fan, it's all clear sailing to the wall. This is still a two-person (or one-person, one-puppy) job because of all the dips and sways in the ceiling, like trying to thread six needles at once. Cheryl helped this weekend, reading her vampire/romance/demon/detective novel on breaks, and things went well.

Today, however, Willow called for a town-hall meeting to discuss health care, meaning that she fielded questions from me and the puppy (Cheryl is absent once again). It wasn't long into the meeting that I began to wonder if the puppy had been set up to disrupt things, probably in collusion with Willow, who would rather give up her Frisbee than support health care reform.

First thing the puppy says: "Is it true that the public health option will mandate euthanasia for humans?" A scurrilous lie, but Willow would not confirm or deny the rumor. It went downhill from there. I was branded a socialist and Nazi for defending universal health care, and the puppy lunged for my throat with sharp puppy teeth, demanding to know where his country has gone (only alive for 12 weeks and already sentimental for the good old days).

Work resumes tomorrow but I am not optimistic.