You Lookin Goooooood Monday

friday night monday morning
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This weekend was a real asshole to me. I welcomed Monday in defiance of everything Garfield taught me as a child who wanted to look smart by reading the newspaper (kids, the newspaper was this giant paper thing that was poorly printed so that you couldn’t read one, complete article on one page, you’d have to flip to an unnumbered page somewhere toward the back to finish reading the article you started on the front and the print would get all over your hands and this was something people did over breakfast and now we wonder where cancer came from).

On Friday afternoon, a large, violent storm swept through and disrupted my life, like that time your Uncle Tim came over for a barbecue and after 12 beers his wife asked him to “maybe slow down” and the cops had to sort out the results. The storm was quick, brutal and for most people forgettable, like the majority of movies starring The Rock (shots fired). This particular storm had a deleterious affect on my weekend. Sure, it was much worse for others in my community, like the person who had a tree fall through their house and camper while our house is totally fine, but that person is probably against teaching evolution in schools while I am pro-learning, root for me!

What I’m saying is that out of nowhere a storm wrecked a very geographically specific area. Thankfully, my spouse and child were not at home when our diseased tree decided to shed its hollow limbs upon our life-style-sustaining utilities. Trying to inch my way home through rush hour on Friday was a nightmare. Beside the anxiety of if my spouse and child are safe. I have catastrophic thinking, meaning that I think and obsess on thinking that the worst thing possible is awaiting me.

Thankfully, it was just a couple of giant branches that broke off and landed on all wires in its path. Not so thankfully, those branches have turned out to cost us over $2,000 (adjusted for inflation, that’s roughly the cost of a child slave–I think–I assume–You know, based on potential future earnings–I’m told–No, YOU’RE the monster. Maybe, uh, because you assume I’m making light of child trafficking and not shining a light on a real problem. Yeah, that’s it.)

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Image Source

There were ups and downs, like our friends opening their home to us yet there was a super creepy picture of what appeared to be the adult version of the girl from The Ring movies totally nude hanging over the guest bed; the baby being very mellow except barfing up an astounding volume of recently-eaten breast milk all over everything/one in a 5-block radius; and us having a place to stay that was air conditioned but there were at least a baker’s dozen opened cans of cat food for the phalanx of whiskered toxoplasmosis distributors lurking around every corner.

I guess what I’m saying is, you take the good, you take the bad, you take them ALL and there you have, the facts of life.

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11 Comments

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  1. Ugh, that sounds horrible. Glad the fam is safe, sorry you all got toxoplasmosis.

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  2. That sucks big time. I’m sorry you had to go through that. Do you reckon you need counselling after seeing that creepy picture?

    $2,000… Damn. I don’t even feeli it’s appropriate to say something funny, sarcastic and soothing. I can be human.

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  3. Wow! It’s difficult to stay in someone else’s house, but sometimes refugees have to take what they can get. Tornado? Flooding? Don’t tell me you live in West Virginia! I hope you’re at home now. Babies do the barf thing. It is a fact of life.

    Love,
    Janie

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  4. Debra She Who Seeks June 27, 2016 — 8:30 am

    “No, YOU’RE the monster” — it’s crazy how much that made me laugh! Sorry to hear your weekend was a shit-fest but you got this great post out of it, so BONUS! (for us)

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  5. So sorry that you had a rough time of it over the weekend. It was really nice of your neighbor to put y’all up. Most people wouldn’t do that. At least the baby is alright. It’s strange how different cities are. Here where I live, we have the city come by and check the trees twice a year. If any branches are over power lines they will cut them at no cost to the home owner.
    As for cats, ewww. That is one of a number of reasons why I hate living with cats.

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    • If the branches are close to the power lines they will cut ’em, but these are well above the lines, looming over the street and creating an ambiance. But the tree in question was one hovering over the lines that were coming to my house (not on the street but in my driveway) which, I’d guess there’s no way your power company is cutting those.

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  6. You’re born, you live, and then you die. Everything else is just filler. I hope the rest of the filler is better for you.

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    • Holy cynicism, that is a bleak outlook. I prefer to think that people live multiple stage plays complete with multiple intermissions and, when you think it’s your third act, the drama comes to an end and a new play begins, complete with another intermission and series of critics to tell you your previous three acts were trite and terrible.

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  7. Ok this post had me going what the hell and gross and now that would be interesting which bits resulted in which reactions I will leave for you to figure out

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  8. Is that what a newspaper is? 😉

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  9. Oh no! What an awful weekend! Ok, others had it worse than you but that is still bad and stressful and a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Er, weekend. I hope this week you were able to get at least somewhat sorted.

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