misAdventures of Workmonkey 3.0

My recent loss of fourteen pounds of weight was actually my gain. The weight loss did not owe itself to the proven powers of the South Beach or Grapefruit fads, but rather the new and innovative Knee diet. The diet involves a surgeon threading a thick tangle of spider legs between your tibia and fibula, and then you sitting on your ass for two weeks watching Modern Marvels and Mad Money and other shows with repeating M's. You can eat what you want - frozen enchiladas from Trader Joes, frozen tamales from Trader Joes, and frozen pizzas from Trader Joes - and don't have to exercise in any way, other than occasionally picking up and ringing the small bell that calls over your fiancee. Fortunately you won't be all that hungry as a result of the medication, general lethargy, and Jim Cramer's voice. You'll shave off three pounds in a the first few days alone as your quadriceps and hamstring atrophy, giving your leg the appearance of a yogurt pop licked by a dragon. Soon, more pounds will melt away from other muscle groups, including your assle (ass muscle), shoulders, and calves. Sadly you will regain some of the lost weight as your arms grow terrifyingly huge from climbing up and down subway stairs on crutches. Ignore the epidermis burns underneath your armpit.

The biggest loss, however, is gained from the suspension of daily alcohol consumption. Fourteen days of beer avoidance is guaranteed to drop eight pounds: The removal of beer calories will account for five of those pounds, while the removal of chicken wings, Wendy's, and egg and bacon sandwiches consumed in a drunken Godzilla eating spree will remove the additional weight. This weight loss provides you a brief respite from your generally pudgy, melted rubber build. As with all diets, however, the weight will eventually return, as you reclaim the daily alcohol and fries consumption that serves a crutch for your weak ability to deal with the rigors of daily life and Mad Money watching.

Come hither, where we will share ham treats and stories about the revolution.

Mini-lion has a heart murmur.

Or rather, this is what a veterenarian hypothosized after five minutes of listening to the stethoscope pressed against her fuzzy chest. Something sounded .... wrong.

Upon informing a co-worker of mini-lion's diagnosis, he blandly muttered, without lifting his head from his computer screen, "My friend has a heart murmur."

And so it is. Research reveals a heart murmur to be a general term, nontechnically meaning the heart makes an abnormal sound when it beats (assuming a normal heart speaks clearly like Obama, Alice's heart mumbles like me after the century club and a scotch). They can be quite harmless, a unique soundprint created by the heart while pushing blood through valves, affected by stress or exercise. Of course, heart murmurs can also be mortal, caused by a heart valve that fails to properly close, or a hole in the heart. For both humans and furry cats, they rate the severity of heart murmurs on a scale of 1 to 6. 1 means no problem. 6 means you should definitely have a will. We won't know mini-lion's rating until her heart is examined via an echocardiogram by a cat heart specialist (not sure why they don't just do a CAT scan .. wait for it ... wait for it ...).

In the case of a human, a heart specialist costs several thousand dollars. In the case of a kitten, that specialist costs eight-hundred dollars. Apparently, being a member of the feline family gets you a 60% discount.

Unfortunately, mini-lion has not yet joined the working world (i give her a pass because of the fallen economy), so her financial contributions to this test are limited. And, though mini-lion has become a cherished part of my life, eight hundred dollars to x-ray her heart seems a bit much.

The problem is, there is no real solution. In humans (which society has deemed more important than kittens), serious heart murmurs can be treated with medication, surgery, or catheterization. These treatments are theoretically possible for kittens, but are financially unrealistic. I'm not quite ready to pay ten thousand dollars to have a pacemaker installed upon mini-lions heart.

We've been forced to confront the question: what is a life worth? For humans, the answer is easy. You spend money until there is no more money to spend. For kittens? There's a finite number. We just haven't determined what it is. Somewhere in the thousands, it seems. So you have to quantify the importance of the test.

Over 25% of kittens have a heart murmur. For many, it disappears within a year or two. For others, it requires monitoring and minor lifestyle adjustments. For some, it will result in a "major heart episode". In any instance, there isn't much you can do. So, we are paying eight-hundred dollars to diagnose a problem that we can do nothing about. Bad heart or good heart, mini-lion needs to be spayed. If she isn't spayed, she'll begin spraying urine on our couches, walls, and faces. Then, she'll begin to hump our shoes and and Swiffers. Next, she'll begin looking at me in an alluring way that will make me thoroughly uncomfortable. As a final performance, she'll begin moaning and meowing like someone is pulling a uekalele string across a toilet bowl for weeks on end.

Of course, as part of a system of professionals that looks out for one another's financial well-being, our veterenarian will not spay our kitten until we get mini-lion a heart echocardiogram. Putting a small animal with a defective heart under anesthesia is a major risk, a risk that most veterenarians are unwilling to take.

So we have to get her heart checked out. We found a place that did it for $400. We also found that some veterenarians will do the spay without first determining the health of the heart, but they also make you sign a waiver acknowledging your understanding that the kitten may never wake up from surgery. The problem is, even if her heart is bad, we'd have to attempt the spay anyway, or give her away. It is impossible to live with a unspayed cat. But still, not waking up from surgery?

Mini-lion is part of our family. Every night I come home, she is sitting at the door, staring up at me inquisitively, hoping that I am brought home a fresh Alaskan salmon or dead bird. She sleeps with us, eats with us, and watches the Phoenix Suns lose with us. I would be deeply affected if she left.

Can we risk that, mini-lion?

huh?

We have to. Whatever the result of the echocardiogram, mini-lion will have to be spayed. Good heart, bad heart, it will be the same result. So paying to find out information that will result in the same decision is useless.

Mini-lion asks for your prayers.

Given the current economic environment, my daily reading inevitably brings me across an article or two advising quick and easy ways to save on your monthly expenses. These articles always offer the same tired, generic recommendations that are either inapplicable (ways to lower your car insurance payments, which are unhelpful to those of us without car insurance), obvious (transfer high-interest credit card balances to lower credit-card balances), or boring (bring your lunch to work). These methods always seem to overshoot the easier and less obvious sacrifices - sacrifices that seem small on the surface and thus makes for a less interesting article. But as one who has been on a wedding budget since January, I've found the real savings lie when you confront your addiction to the American ideal of consumerism. During times of financial exuberance, you grow accustomed to products that are actually quite useless, but seemingly flaunt your purchasing prowess, albeit on a seemingly small scale (At a high level, people demonstrate their overflowing financial resources by purchasing a second home or Mercedes. On a small level, they purchase Method soap over Ivory.) Let's take a tour of some of the small products you won't miss that will save you easy money:

• Brita/Pur water filters: Water filters serve as the ultimate example of American consumerism. In most countries, the biggest problem is potable drinking water. In America, we pay to filter water that has already been filtered, and make drinkable water even more drinkable. This one was easy - I used to vomit quietly every sixth week I had to pick up a replacement Pur filter at the corner Duane Reade. These filters average close to $14 dollars and came with a cute little sticker telling me exactly when the filtering prowess of that filter would expire (it said six weeks, but we found it to be more like four). Since January, Jill and I drink water from the tap anytime we are thirsty. In a surprising development, we haven't died.
  Savings: $14 per month


• Dry Swiffers: WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH A BROOM!
  Savings: $12 dollars per month


• Glad ForceFlex Stretchable Strength Garbage Bags: I fucking hate garbage bags. THEY ARE BAGS WHOSE SOLE PURPOSE IS TO TAKE OUT YOUR GARBAGE WHICH MEANS THE BAGS THEMSELVES ARE GARBAGE WHICH MEANS YOU ARE ACTUALLY PAYING FOR FUCKING GARBAGE YOU FUCKING RODENT! Only Americans could be convinced to spend $8.49 on bags you immediately throw away.
  Savings: $17 dollars per month


• Mach 12 razors: I'm actually unaware of the current sound-barrier-busting level of razors, as I stopped buying them over five years (as evidenced by the corresponding growth of my beard). All I know is that when I first moved to New York, I went to a Duane Reade to purchase a Mach 98, and saw that the price came close to $18. Replacement blades were even worse, coming in at around $22 for a ten-pack. I bought a bag of disposables that day for $5, and never bought another razor again. As an added savings, I'd recommend you move in with a woman (or head-shaving man) and have him / her buy the razors which you then proceed to borrow.
  Savings: $18 per month


• Wet Swiffers: WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH A MOP!
  Savings: $14 dollars per month
  
• Cottonelle/Quilted Northern/Charmin Toilet Paper: IT IS YOUR FUCKING ASSHOLE! Do you really need to pamper it like it is the prince of Sweden? This one is easy as possible: You go to a store, and you see that the local Rite-Aid brand is 89 cents for a roll. Then you look at Quilted Northern and see that it is $1.89 for a roll. If you then decide on that Quilted Northern toilet paper, you have failed at your job and deserve to die broke and miserable with a beautiful anus. The savings here go beyond price: Charmin, because it is soft and fluffy and made of clouds, only has like 12 crap-wipes per roll. The Rite-Aid brand, because it is thin and barely covers your thumb, offers 23 crap-wipes per roll.
  Savings: $8 dollars per month


• Oral-B CrossAction Pro-Health Toothbrush with CrissCross and Power Tip Bristles: As a man who works in the advertising industry, I can advise you that any product using words like "CrissCross and Power Tip Bristles" is to be avoided at all costs.
  Savings: $5 dollars per month.