At This Point

Wow, for someone who prides herself on being a glass-is-half-full kind of gal, I sure am complaining a lot lately.  For that, I apologize.

But seriously, at this point, it's getting comical. 

Yesterday afternoon, I went out to my car before taking my lunch time walk around 1:40, and all was well.  When I left work at 3:45, someone had hit the side of my car and left white paint scrapes right under the sideview mirror that they had completely sheared off.

The fun part?  The weenie didn't even leave a note.  Isn't this what insurance is for?  I'd have left a note. 

Now I'm responsible for taking care of the damages, which - surprise of surprises - we can't afford, even through insurance because of our astronomical deductible.  I filed a police report and the hospital security team is checking surveillance footage to see if they can find who did it.  If they can, that person will be responsible for the repair.  IF.

So, after wasting half an hour assessing the damage and making my report, I missed dinner.  I drove directly to school for my Spanish class, holding my mirror in my left hand the whole way to avoid it beating itself to death on the side of my car during the ride.  You see, it's an electric mirror, and the electrical is still intact, even though the housing was completely broken off.

Once I made it to the school parking lot, I found a black canvas bag under my seat and used it to secure the mirror as best I could.  At home, we busted out the duct tape.

In case I haven't already made this perfectly clear, I'm done with July.  D-O-N-E, done.  Come on, August...help me out a little, eh?

Taking a Deep Breath

Okay, so we're all running around like chickens with our heads cut off.  I get that.  It's summer, and things get busy and hectic and frustrating and, and, and.

But this is ridiculous!

July has been one of those months.  You know, the ones that test your limits by nudging you closer and closer to the edge until you finally fall off?  Yeah.  One of those.

First, there was the stupid traffic violation on vacation.  Can I just say that red light cameras leave a lot to be desired?  There are situations in which you cannot safely stop; for example, say, if some jerk is two inches off your bumper and you have your kid in the car.  Slam on the brakes and get rear-ended or sneak through the light on pure hope...which would you do?

Then there was the storm.  The one that knocked out our power for four solid days, effectively spoiling every perishable item we had in the house.  We'd gone grocery shopping a few days before the outage, and we shop for two weeks at a time...usually a good thing.  This time?  Not so much.

We had to re-purchase all of our groceries.

Oh, and did I mention the three gigantic fish in our downstairs freezer?  I think I may have posted about that already. 

And then I went to turn on my home PC on Monday for the first time since the storm.  It's fried.  Kaput.  Dead as a doornail.

I'm worried about my computer.  I'm worried about paying the bills.  I'm worried about putting food on the table.  I'm worried about school.  I'm worried I simply have too much on my plate at the moment.  I'm worried that if I don't do something about it, something's gonna give...and it ain't gonna be the right thing.

Y'all know I've always been a glass-is-half-full kind of gal.  Still am.  I just think the universe is trying to tell me something here, and perhaps I need to take a break from some of the other stuff until the important bits straighten themselves out.

Taking a deep breath now...but don't you worry your pretty little heads about me.  I won't be gone long.

Just Too Tired

This past Monday morning, a particularly strong storm blew through our area and knocked our power out.  An astonishing number of large, mature trees were struck by lighting, snapped off at the base, or picked up and thrown by the wind.

Fortunately, our house remained unharmed.  The same cannot be said for others around here, though.

To make a long story short, our power was restored on Friday morning.  The work week was interesting, and involved things such as driving to the lake to get jugs of water to be used to flush the toilet, and taking my shampoo for a swim in the lake. 

Since the power has been restored, we've surveyed the situation and found that everything in our refrigerator went bad.  We had hoped the freezers would be okay, but those hopes were a bit naive.  The food in our small upstairs freezer was, for the most part, salvageable. 

Downstairs, however, we didn't fare so well.  Our large chest freezer apparently doesn't have as great a seal as the one up here, and we lost everything that was in it.  This includes three large fish that were waiting to be mounted: two Northern pike and one walleye.  Not only did we lose them; they also thawed completely and coated the bottom of the freezer in rotten fish sludge.

Oy.

Since our garbage collection is on Mondays, we put off the cleanup until this evening.  We figured it made more sense to let the food re-freeze, rather than plopping it all into the garbage can days in advance when the forecast called for ninety-five degree temperatures.

So, that part was a good call, at least.

Since the mount fish were now frozen in about an inch of nasty ice on the bottom of the freezer, we had to get creative to get them out.  We figured out that a hammer did a great job at breaking up the ice, so we proceeded to empty the freezer, laboriously and noisily.

One by one, I brought the huge fish up to pitch into the garbage.  On my last trip upstairs, I noticed The Princess was crying.

She was standing at the gate between the bedrooms and the living room, her face as red as could be.  Tears streamed down her face, and she wailed long and loud.

Right.  She's extremely sensitive when it comes to sound.  Why hadn't I thought of that???

After washing the scum from my hands and arms, I tried my best to comfort her while she let loose with her siren wail.  Eventually, this most pathetic of cries tapered off into a shuddering sob.  There seemed to be nothing more I could do.

And I was sweating buckets from hauling twenty-plus pound fishcicles up the stairs.

The Hubbs and I plopped in our chairs in the (much cooler) basement in an attempt to bring down our temperatures.  Through the floor, I could still hear her crying in her room.

As soon as I cooled off, I was back in her room.  I apologized for not warning her about what we were going to do downstairs and explained that, as hard as we try, sometimes these things don't occur to us until it's too late.

Now, as I sit here typing this post, she's singing herself to sleep.  I think I actually just heard her laugh.

It's been a long week around here, folks, and I'm hoping it gets back to our twisted version of normal very quickly.  As soon as that happens, you can expect the next installments of The Princess's visit to Red House.

But now?  I'm just too tired.

We Interrupt this Broadcast With a Very Important Message

Sprinklers are fun!

And now, back to your regularly scheduled programming.  :)

Red House: Part One

Oil change: check.

Full gas tank: check.

Bags, pillows, Pull-Ups and potty packed in the trunk: check.

Cooler and assorted snackies within reach of the driver's seat: check.

Non-verbal four-year-old with autism who is two years into potty training, the results of which are questionable on the best of days: strapped into her booster seat with Arlington, DP and an arsenal of toys.

Gumma and Umpa pull out of the driveway with Jessie in the truck and the boat trailing behind, and I slowly let my foot off the clutch.  We are commencing the first leg of our 600-mile journey to Red House.  Lord, help us.

Stay tuned for Part Two.