I have a life insurance policy through my union, and a woman from the company wanted to come out to speak to me. We had an appointment set, but then, to my immense relief, she called it off on account of illness. She claimed she just had some paperwork for me to sign to get the money if I should have a terminal illness, but I suspected there was more to it than that. She also wanted Travalon to be there because she wanted to give him something. So last night she did come over, and when she looked me up on her computer, the first thing she said was, “You’re a Capricorn too!” I said yes, and Travalon’s a Sagittarius, and then she said so was her ex-husband. “It’s a combination that doesn’t work unless you both are willing to put a lot of work into it,” she said, which seems odd because Travalon is the lowest maintenance significant other I have ever had. Then she gave us a bunch of paperwork for the terminal illness rider, some health insurance supplement card that can even be used for Rodney’s subscription medication, and a certificate to get the money instantly for the funeral home in the event of my death. That all sounded well and good, but I was sure she wanted something more, and sure enough, she started to ask us all sorts of questions about what insurance we have. Her conclusion? I needed to buy more life insurance. I said, “No, thanks. I have plenty with my job.” She said that was all term insurance that will end when I retire, which may be true, but I don’t need any big, elaborate funeral that is going to set Travalon back so much money that my current policy won’t cover it. As far as I’m concerned, he can bury me in the marsh and have a potluck to celebrate my life, although that probably wouldn’t go over too well with the authorities. I remember from Mr. Why’s unfortunate demise that the funeral industry is always trying to push expensive options on the survivors, but Travalon can just say no. I won’t be offended if he doesn’t get the Remembrance Angel Bear.