I’ve had a most entertaining week and a half.
If I said, “it all began with a root canal,” you might have a quick appreciation of how it all went. Unless, of course, you actually like root canals. In which case we don’t have a lot in common.
Following that lovely procedure, the tissues around the tooth decided to flip, flop and fly, which was almost as painful as the root canal itself. Apparently, without a full tooth there (much grinding necessary), the gums weren’t properly anchored and were scraping away against the rough surface.
Bless my dentist for figuring out the problem and attaching the crown ahead of my scheduled appointment. Aaaaah.
Sadly, more dental work to come, but things are moving along, at least.
Subsequently, I broke — literally snapped — the pipe of my vacuum cleaner, the day before hosting a big birthday party for my beautiful, adorable, deeply-loved sister. Purrrrrfect, said the cat. Being rather cranky about this little set-back, it took me a moment to breathe and sensibly decide not to fling the thing against the wall or out the window.
Duct tape to the rescue! It won’t last long, but at least I got the house cleaned pre-company. I’m amazed I managed to get it done, what with all the self-back-patting going on.
The dinner went well, and deliciously (can you beat a traditional pot roast with Yorkshire pudding?) with help from Mom and brother. Sadly, a couple of the kids couldn’t make it, and one was sick, but we still had a good time.
Then came Tuesday, when I woke up feeling a little ungood, with an enormous, uh, blemish on my face. I didn’t think much of it for a few hours, being focused on feeling weird, until I remembered: blemish equals virus, in my life. By noon, I thought I might die when weird turned to green; and by 1:30, I could not stay awake. I couldn’t even sit up. Sleep was inevitable, although I worried a bit about whether I would just up and barf while napping.
Three hours later, I awakened. Three hours! I never sleep that long during the day. I don’t sleep that long at night, sometimes, at least in one go. Did I feel better? Nope. But at least I avoided wanting to expire for three blessed hours.
Meanwhile, the washing machine. Uh huh, the machine I just had fixed a few weeks ago. It was leaking, this time. The repair gentleman did say, “if this thing leaks, it’s pretty much time for a new washer.” Or something like that. I didn’t write it down.
So yes, of course, it leaked. And so yes, of course, I threw up my hands (instead of my tummy) and gave in.
I must say I was thrilled with the whole new washing machine experience. I went to the store (should I say? It was Saskatoon Appliance), met with a very nice and helpful man, chose a washer (on sale!) that was actually in stock, and it was delivered on time the very next day. Then the very nice and helpful man came to hook it up. It’s shiny and new and I’m putting my first load through right now. Fingers crossed.
I can’t say I was sad to see the old one go, expense aside. It stank. Reeked. And not for lack of trying to smarten it up. I always, always, always left the door open when not in use. I could put it through a cleaning cycle every week, and it would still stink within 24 hours. It was a fairly early, front-load, low-water-use model, and it drove me bats. I’m told the new models today have better venting, so the smell should not be as bad. Fingers crossed.
It’s very hard to focus on the important issues of the day when you feel like, well, hell; your vacuum and your washer break down within two days of each other; and your teeth are driving you to drugs. (Well, Advil, anyway, and the occasional Tylenol.)
Instead, here’s my minor contribution to the understanding of the universe.
I have realized that life just never stops with surprises and fun events. Oh yes, it took me this long to figure that out. You think, “oh, next week I’ll finish that chapter! I’ll feel great!” Or, “oh, tomorrow, I’ll make that appointment, no problem. This virus will have gone by then.” And therefore, all will be well going forward, as they say.
It really is always something.
And all you can do is cope, and allow that churning brain to say, in the famous words of Scarlett O’Hara, “Tomorrow is another day.”