First I seriously owe my dad an apology. I was so busy feeling lame and sorry for myself I completely spaced on Father's Day. Worst. Daughter. Ever. I'm really sorry, Dad. Please forgive me and have a wonderful Day After Father's Day. I love and miss you. Give me a call sometime when you're not busy. (Not busy? Ha.)
Second I wanted to respond to something Casey wrote yesterday. He rightly observed that one paycheck (especially a teacher's salary, *cough*) does not a middle class family make. Indeed. What I meant to say was, adding a second income to our household will go a long way toward getting us off this paycheck-to-paycheck hamster wheel. Of course, that only refers to our financial situation. We'll always be broke folk at heart.
Now, I know I promised I'd write about the bright side today. And I actually did, in the wee hours of this morning when I couldn't sleep for nothing. Maybe I'll publish what I just deleted later. But I'd be lying to y'all if I pretended I'm better today.
I think I might have been, if not for the phone call I just fielded. See, Doug drives this shitty old Chevrolet to work every day. I'm not hating. I love shitty old cars. I feel unspeakable anxiety when I'm driving too nice of a ride. But shitty old cars do shitty old car things sometimes. Like, springing radiator leaks. Like our Chevrolet chose to spring at this perfectly obnoxious moment.
And, I love you Douglas, but why on earth did you think I would want to know this immediately? I was just laying back down to try and steal a couple more hours of peaceful sleep. Scratch that off the list now. Damn and blast. Sure I needed to know by this afternoon, since I'll be driving out to pick you up from work in the Toyota, but you could have given me a morning's worth of ignorant bliss. It's not like there's anything I can do right now.
I think strong and reassuring just went out the window.
For now the Chevrolet will have to cool its wheels (see what I did there?) in the parking garage at Doug's office. Maybe later this week we'll fill up some empty bottles -- gotta rescue those from the trash, gross -- with water and limp it back home. And maybe a month from now we'll have the money to get the thing looked at. That is, unless anybody knows a gearhead in Atlanta who will work for food.
Deep breaths, kid. Deeeeep breaths... We've dug out of worse holes than this.
Oh, but on one brighter note, my darling Richard: I only just now saw your last reply to me on Twitter. My answer? Of course, silly! I've considered you a pretend boyfriend for ages now. I thought you knew! That is, as long as you're cool with joining a harem. :)
See, there was a joke right there. Recovery starts with a single punch line. Maybe I'll try to get some more sleep after all...
Edited at 12:15 to add: Here is the text I just got from my husband.
Think I found the problem w/ the car. Cracked hose near connection to motor. I cut the hose and reattached. Gonna bring it home this afternoon. I'll let y know if I need you.I'm shaking my head in amazement. If he can see the hose? We might can fix the thing ourselves. I could so use a break like this just now.
Glad to hear that Doug has the technical prowess to do something with a hose that I don't even know exists. That's why you married HIM and kept ME for the Gay Boyfriend Harem.
ReplyDeleteOk, first of all: you will NEVER make any first of the worst list around here. I read your "pity party" post and thought about offering suggestions but ultimately decided you would work it out. Anyway when your kid is amazing Father's Day is just another click on the calendar. I'd like to ask that you ease up on my man Douglas though. New job/new city/new household syndrome is very stressful on us loving family guys, too!
ReplyDeleteI'm glad it was just a hose that hosed you! (I didn't think I had an adequate bad joke for this situation, but there it is!?!! WHO IS THE BAD JOKE MAESTRO?)
I love you. Remember, 24 hours at a time...