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Friday, November 30, 2012

50 pounds of junk in a 10 pound bag

Have you ever felt like you are a gazelle on a pair of ice skates and no matter how hard you try, something keeps knocking you down?

The week started out as most weeks do. I finally had enough of the tween induced mess in my house that is also known as my daughter's bedroom, so I went in there with a garbage bag and a mind made up that come hell or high water, this room would be clean. I spent a good part of nap time on Monday afternoon working in there. I was so overwhelemed when I lifted up her bed and saw the contents underneath it that I called my mom and used my "high pitched what am I going to do?" voice. Mom promptly arrived and I knew that if Julie got home from school and saw that I had called in the "big dog" she would get the point. She came home and basically was amazed at the rearranging that had taken place and loved her room. She even helped a little bit, and I know you new age moms (or whatever you would call it) are saying "she should have done a majority of the work." Perhaps you're right, but the thing is, I wanted it done right. I also wanted it done in a timely manner. We made it through Monday night. Tuesday was when all hell broke loose.

I got a message from the treasurer of the knititng guild letting me know that there had been a major snafu with the room we normally hold our meetings in. We didn't have it. I didn't schedule the meeting for November because of Thanksgiving. Someone else scheduled it for the 14th and somehow I had gotten it in my head that it was the 28th. So, I sent out email reminders and newsletters with the change in the date noted. It wasn't until the day before the 28th that we found out we didn't have the room. After some scrambling and running, we did secure a space and had a great meeting, but uffda. Did I ever feel like a pariah. I know I shouldn't have because mistakes happen and it did end up being okay, but it was just another thing that happened that made me feel like I wasn't living up to people's expectations of me. There's been a sharp drop in membership at guild. I feel like it's kind of been since I became the president. Is it me? Is there something that I'm doing that's wrong? This kind of stuff eats away at me. I know you can never make everyone happy all the time but I get in this mode where I am not satisfied unless EVERYONE likes me. I'm working on overcoming that. It will take time, however, I am sure.

Then on Wednesday, my husband was late coming home from work. I finally called him to see if everything was okay, and he answered the phone from the side of the road in a 2003 Ford Brick. The transmission was dead. Gone. Kaput. Game over. We just bought this car in June. My cousin owns a garage and could do the transmission for us. The dealership still has it under warranty and will pay for 25% of the cost to fix it, but we have to pay about $100.00 to tow it back to them so they can look at it and give us an estimate. Are they going to over charge us since they are paying 25% of the cost? I hope not. But do I know anything about cars or dealerships? Heck no. I know how to walk on to one with a pre approval from a bank and say, "I want that one." but when it comes to negotiations or getting a fair deal, I have absolutely no clue what to do. So, I am letting my husband deal with this fiasco. He can talk to the service managers, the parts department, whoever you have to talk to. I'm going to sit on the couch and rock back and forth while I knit and hum to myself and pray that it all works out and I don't end up with a $4,000.00 hunk of metal in my yard.

There's more that I could go into, but I'm not going to because in all honesty, there are people out there who have it WAY worse than I do. I am blessed with parents who care about me and will help me with anything even though I'm almost 30 years old. In spite of all the shenanigans I pull on them, they are still always right there ready to help out when something goes wrong in my life. I will say with all of this car garbage, I've given some thought to becoming Amish. Horses get sick but I'm sure they don't cost as much as Ford Explorer transmissions. Or maybe they do. Oh hell. I'm just going to knit and not think about it.

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