It could be worse. I know. God, I know it could be worse. I would like to acknowledge that, knock on wood, and then carry on to complain without dignity about how terrible this October has been. (I know you’re not surprised. You know how whiny I am.)
My house is basically crumbling around me. And I say that with the greatest of hyperbole.
But, c’mon, people. Do you want to know what has gone wrong in rapid succession in my home this month? I don’t care. I am in Whine Mode; I’m telling you anyway. Seriously, people, this shit is unprecedented.
Here’s the list of Things That Are Terrible in Stimeyland These Days:
• My fridge, followed by…
• The replacement fridge. See, our original fridge stopped cooling things. Alex and I had a long dance of, “I think it’s okay,” followed by, “Huh, it might be getting warmer in here,” followed by, “Let’s turn it down all the way to ‘1,’” followed by, “Maybe it goes the other way, let’s turn it all the way to ’10,'” followed by, “This fridge is broken.”
So we got a new fridge, which was a floor model that we got at an excellent price. Unfortunately that fridge (1) had a broken water pump, (2) turned out to be missing at least three pieces, (3) leaked air out the side, and (4) made everything in the fridge section freeze solid.
We returned it and purchased a new fridge, which we insisted come in a box, brand new. Success.
• Our wood floors. This saga will be relayed tomorrow. Rest assured though, it fits in here.
• The stove. Fingers crossed, this one looks like it might turn out okay. Although it WAS disconnected for more than a week during our re-tiling of the kitchen, which, had we known about the Great Financial Hemorrhaging that was about to happen, we might have put off. (But it’s SOOOO pretty!)
• My hard drive. You’ve already heard about this one.
• Our alarm system. Technically, WE broke this because we had to cut the wires after we pulled up the carpet only to find that the wires ran diagonally across what would now be bare floor. This rewiring was a pretty easy fix, but annoying.
• The heater in my car. It still works, but only after it blows out freezing cold air for a good 10 to 15 minutes. I’m wondering how long we can put off this repair before it gets really troubling.
• Our house furnace. Today was SPECTACULAR in the sheer number of things that decided to go ahead and quit on Team Stimey. Our furnace hasn’t been working since Friday, and we’ve had two visits from the heater people, and today our part finally came in and the heater guy showed up unannounced at five minutes to eight, just when I was ready to take the munchkins to school. Then, when Alex was trying to let the guy in, the dog made a break for it and disappeared down the street. It was quite the scene.
The dog is back. Although I’m pretty sure a large part of Alex didn’t want to chase after her.
Well, the heater technician tried to fix the furnace, but was unsuccessful and unearthed this rusty piece that he was so impressed by that he took a photo of and kept saying that it looked like something one would find in an undersea shipwreck.
So we’re buying a new furnace. Yay.
Not really yay.
You know those glowing heat lamps they have on outdoor patios at restaurants? I have one on an end table right now. It’s the only thing keeping us warm.
• Alex’s motorcycle. Alex used to have this cool old motorcycle with orange racing stripes. It could do anything. A car hit it once and dragged it for several blocks. (Alex was not on it at the time.) Alex chased it down and was able to ride it home. It was bad ass.
His current motorcycle gets tapped and says ouch. It’s had more than a few issues in the five years that Alex has had it. Sadly, it’s looking like it’s most recent trip to the mechanic will be its last. This news also came today. That poor wussy little bike.
• Oh, right, and the straw that broke the camel’s back. I showed up at speech therapy today with all three kids, one of whom had been whining for an hour about not wanting to be dragged to therapy any more and why does Jack need to go to therapy all the time and when will he not have to go to therapy anymore and EVERYTHING IS THE WORST THING IN THE WORLD, which, honestly, I agree with, and then the receptionist told me that Jack’s therapy was no longer covered by our insurance and then I COMPLETELY LOST MY SHIT.
I (of course) started crying and was all, “BUT I CAN’T AFFORD TO PAY FOR THERAPY OUT OF POCKET!” with the subtext of “BECAUSE EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE IMPLODED THIS MONTH!” I was not coherent enough to realize that something similar happened with Jack’s occupational therapist and that it could probably all be worked out if I just calmed down already, did the session, and then called the insurance company.
What I did instead was seize on the less-than-24-hours-notice cancellation fee. I pulled out my credit card and started blathering about paying that because I couldn’t stay for the session and, oh my lord, it was quite the scene. To make it even better, the waiting room was, like, packed. And suddenly eerily quiet.
That poor receptionist. Jack’s poor therapist, who had arrived at the front by this time. They looked a little shell shocked. They told me I didn’t have to pay the cancellation fee and I took a deep breath, wiped some tears and told Jack he wasn’t going to see his therapist today. He had been happily dismantling his therapy binder during this whole thing and was delighted to be able to go home. I think he might have exclaimed, “Yay!”
Don’t worry. I already emailed to apologize.
• Oh, and Jack decided he doesn’t like his only pair of sneakers, so he hid them. And we can’t find them. And he won’t tell us where they are.
I’m so over Sucktober. Bring on Bettervember.