One of Those Days

Last night I went into my room to go to bed and discovered someone thought my Madagascar Dragon Tree was a litterbox, and knocked it over trying to use it.  I growled and swore and cleaned it up and went to bed.

I woke up at a quarter of five.  That’s okay, I’ve been sleeping oddly since we moved.  I just stayed in bed, figuring I’d get back to sleep eventually.

After a while the thought penetrated my sleep-fogged brain that I was hearing a noise I shouldn’t be.  Bly and Hope were asleep, the dog was on the floor by my bed, one cat was on my feet, the other by my side, there wasn’t anyone out in the hall to be making that tapping noise.  I tried to convince myself it didn’t matter, but eventually I got up.

When I stepped out of my room, I stepped in water.  The roof was leaking.  I growled and swore and stuck a moving blanket over the puddle, a couple bowls under the drips, and went back to bed grumbling.

At 0800 when I finally dragged out for the day, it was still dripping.  Before I could even get coffee going, I heard a crash from my room, and discovered a cat had thought there was room for him on my nightstand.  Which resulted in my incense-burning bottle shattering on the floor.

And in the mailbox at the other house (no, we’re still not done moving) was a notice of an “everyone is expected to attend” back-to-school waste of my time.  Sigh.

But I’m looking into making it NOT a waste of my time.  Apparently the governor is invited to speak.  I’m hoping for a chance to ask why, four years after Governor Napolitano got elected talking about improving education and healthcare for children, a widowed parent bringing home $18,000 a year can’t get health insurance for one child without paying a fourth of her income.

That should get me tossed out and on my way to work by ten at the latest.

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Writer, mom, widow. Anything else is transitory.

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