HAPPY ANNIVERSARY ... OR WELCOME TO HELL (YOUR CHOICE)

Five years ago I bought this house.  It was a time of transition – having survived the loss of our home to fire, the breakup of my marriage, I was moving with my daughter and son into a new life.  I was happy that I had a nice, new, safe home for us all to live in, complete with water and sunset views, and close to the kids’ school.  

 I had always wanted granite counter tops in my kitchen and now I had them.   

I bet you’re thinking:  five years is enough time for good things to happen, a bright future, a happy ending.  Right?  Me too.  That’s exactly what I was thinking/hoping for/expecting.

Well, not so much.   We suffered through more emotional trauma, and four significant water leaks in my home. (Fire? Water? What the hell??)  Every time I think, “OK, I got through that.  Now things will get better, right?” I’m faced with a new disaster.  Is this a test?

There's a German TV show I discovered on line called Bernd Das Brot (Bernd, The Bread). It's about this loaf of bread named Bernd who lives a pathetic, ziggy like existence.  Everything bad happens to poor Bernd and his typical refrain is "Mein Leben ist die Holle" (my life is hell).  It's a funny show and the kids and I love to watch it and laugh at this pitiful character.

Right now, I am Bernd.  It's OK, you can still laugh.  I'm laughing too.  I'm laughing hysterically.  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA  See?  Because what else can I do?

I’ve been on a personal quest for enlightenment – meditating, thinking positive thoughts, trying to believe the universe really doesn’t have it in for me. 

I HATE you!

Sometimes, like when your world is crashing down around your ears, it's really hard to stay positive.

Yesterday was our five year anniversary living here and I told my son we should celebrate this important milestone.  Things went downhill after that.

I had called a plumber for a possible water leak and after his inspection, was informed the leak was so massive, my entire kitchen would have to be torn apart.  The rest of the day was spent removing dishes from cabinets that were about to be destroyed and watching in horror as my walls were torn apart.  I now have dishes, appliances and miscellaneous clutter piled on the dining table, spilling out into the hallway and into the garage.  My house looks like an episode from Hoarders.  

Now where did I put that can opener?

Think we need a few more glasses and bottles

A disturbing call with my insurance agent suggested they might not cover this astronomical expense.  Reeling from this news, I tried to absorb what the restoration guy was telling me about demolishing my walls, cabinets, and cherished granite counter tops.  I looked over at my son, trying to hold it together, but I’m sure I looked shell shocked.  If I were a 1700’s corset wearing maiden, I would have held my hand to my forehead and swooned dramatically and elegantly to the floor, my billowing (yet stylish) skirts floating around my motionless body. 

What I wanted to do was run outside screaming maniacally like the Tasmanian Devil. 

 My head was spinning, my stomach was churning and I was trying not to cry.

Giant fans, dehumidifiers and air cleaners were hooked up in my kitchen, office and hallway.  They are so unbelievably loud, I can hardly hear the chaos in my brain.

Aw, Home Sweet Home

Kyle came home from school and I tried to talk with him over the roaring fans.  “HOW WAS YOUR DAY?” I shouted at him.  He mouthed something I couldn’t hear and I just smiled and nodded.  I told him what I loved about our house was how quiet and peaceful it is.  “WHAT??” he answered.

Doesn't everyone store their oven in the hallway?

Trying to go about my normal life is interesting, with the roaring fans creating a little tornado effect in my kitchen.  The oven has been pulled out, but I can still use my stove.  I turned the burner on to make some dinner and, with my hair blowing into my face, watched the flames dance dangerously close to my hair and other flammable objects.   Hmmm, seems a little dangerous.  I turned the burner off and used the microwave instead.

This is a test. Only a test...

So welcome to my life.  Now picture me meditating in a Zen like position, breathing deeply, not letting the noise, chaos, clutter, or the whirlwind in my kitchen get to me.  Yes, picture me like that. 

Meanwhile, I will be running down the street screaming.

 All photos, except for the obvious ones of my house are from the internet.