Lessons

There are times when the universe puts you to the test. You step back, you absorb, process and move on. You grow, accepting the valuable lesson and appreciate what you've learned.

Then there are the times where you realize the universe is making fun of you ~ all your efforts and seeming know-how.  It takes your well thought-out plans and hoists its heavy leg to make tee-tee on everything; like a fire hose out of control. That has been my collection of "lessons" over the last several months.  Yes, months.

It began with the lesson of patience.  I was trying to reciprocate my professional license because we are relocating.  We are following a more gentle, breathable path in our lives ~ so we thought.  I hit wall after wall of "We need...",  "We won't release without...", or "It's in our hardcopy archives because it's been SO long ago..." That was a DOUBLE kick in the shins because some lil gum-chewer took a pot-shot at my age.  Yes, thank you, Darlin for reminding me that I was thirty something before my first cell phone and I remember a fascinating tickle as AOL cranked up like an old forgotten field plow: rrrrrrrruuuuummmm vrrrr-whirrrrrrrr CONNECTED ....

But I persevered and got what I needed.  I sighed and stepped up to the next task: Diligence. Cheech and I have come to understand the universe does not enjoy our travel hi-jinx; demonstrating this displeasure by whipping up freak snowstorms, monsoon-like rains and devastating winds whenever we venture out on vacation.  I apologize to those of you who did not receive the memo.  Please check your spam folder and look for the sender: Muthuh Nature.  I know you are scoffing but here are some irrefutable examples:

 I wanted to surprise my favorite playmate with a sexy trip to a BEAUTIFUL spa winery.  It was a surprise ~ for both of us since 1) I had never EVER done anything so romantically wreckless 2) I kept it a secret for months. The time came and I had wonderful plans from dinners, tastings, massages and other fun activities.  Arriving, Cheech became ill, popping a fever and being bed ridden for the entire weekend.  Still skeptical?  Well chew on the fact that a freak snow storm roared up on the place where we were staying; a southern state thoroughly ill-equipped  for even a light frost.  The melee that ensued included: panicked (but professional) rescheduling of all services that could not be cancelled, a new flight, and another hotel ~ extra meals... so much for nekkid sexy time.  But I soldiered on and took away that I got to read a lot.  I dozed in luxury and smelled wonderful smells from a spa I never saw.  We checked out and headed to our second hotel.  Sitting at a stoplight, we were rear-ended by a taxi.  No, I am NOT joking.  My gentle, calm thoughts here?  We got fresh warm cookies and a free lunch from the hotel.  Both were delicious.

And my second example?  We want to move to our lake house.  We want to breathe deeper and reduce the stress of two household, one of which is too big for us now.  That would include travel. And what happened?  The whole world broke.  A pandemic.

Then there was today.  We have been preparing our house our kids and dogs for this day.  I am a couple of weeks from going -for good.  We are in the home stretch.  The painters have finished every inch of the house.  The carpets are ordered and on their way.  We are moments from listing ... Life is good and the universe is smiling... I mistook it for the "good job" smile versus the "Waaaaaiiiit for it... WAAAAAIIIIIT FOR IT....." grin.  Silly me.

So my beloved went tinkle and copped a shower to begin his day.  I was sitting in our piano room with my coffee doing my morning think.  I heard a gentle trickle and glanced out the window.  "hmm ~ didn't think the rain was starting until later..." I frowned thinking of the big load I was taking up to Promises today, meeting the kids and having a stress free weekend of games, food and ... wine.  But it WASN'T raining.  At least outside.  I jumped up and bolted around the corner to see water spewing from my register vent in the ceiling.  It assaulted my counters and swallowed my kitchen tile.  "Nononononono NOOOOOOOOO!" I heard myself growling as I dashed up the steps, down the hall to my bathroom.  My Cheech was soaped up and busy.  

"Rinse and turn off the water." I said calmly.  I think I said it.  Inside my skull, my brain was shrieking, my grey matter frothing with fear and fury.

"What?" he wiped his face.  Water ran.  My heart began to race.  My feet were wet.  I looked over to see the Porcelain God vomiting onto my floor at an alarming rate.  I could hear my bathroom carpet slurping, sucking, trying to help me hold it back.  Thank you carpet.  I loved you best for your dedication to warm feet and now this... I weep at the loss of you but know this:  You were a valiant soldier. Amen.

With a hint of volume and desperation, I repeated myself in a puff "RINSEANDTURNOFFTHEWATER" I jumped to the toilet, and performed the plumbing Heimlich. (Thank God I'm certified) It gurgled and swallowed.  Too late now you douche I glared and hissed.  I grabbed towels enough to birth a village threw them to the floor and dashed passed my husband who stood awestruck.

"This is not happening." he scolded the water.  I felt the rush of his energy willing it to stop.  When this was not effective he turned off the water and joined me in the kitchen.

"Oh my FUCK THIS IS NOT HAPPENING" The volume drowned out the water.  (Hey Alanis... it IS ironic...) I turned off circuits because water was weeping from the lights in the ceiling.

The shop-vac was awakened, blankets from the couch were deployed.  There was no time for tears or distress. We called emergency services and insurance companies. Aqua-war was on.  We were winning.  Sort of.  We waited for the water-vac (like medi-vac but with more rubber and different masks... remember THIS when I throw my next theme party...) and sat silently.  My mind was racing, searching for anything positive....I looked at my shell-shocked husband, frustrated and angry.  We are exhausted.  We just want to move and look forward to something a little easier and more simple.

So I only had one thing to say.

"Why is the floor wet... TODD?????"

He looked at me over his computer.  His lips tight and thin.  I should have heeded the warning but I was like Bugs Bunny in a straight jacket; head back scream-laughing... then I got up.

"Okay well, with the service people coming, I am just going to sneak upstairs and grab a quick shower...."

He smiled and said "I do love you."

My lesson?  We will survive and together we are invincible. That and we will keep this community employed through the beer flu.  Pass the putty knife and towels.  We're gonna have a spackle party.  Bring your tool belts and butt cracks.


Laugh with me.  I need the company ... Better days and stronger martinis.
Until next time, please use the downstairs toilet.