So y’all are up to date on our almost break-in, right? Well, that was yesterday’s news (or maybe it was the day before, I get them all mixed up when I’m sneaking in these random visits from my IRL job).
They say stuff happens in threes and Fate has now scored for a second time while I’ve got a big ol’ goose egg. I’m trying to remain positive in the face of this, really I am. But part of me keeps listening for that third shoe to fall. I know, right? Who knew Fate had three feet!
When I arrived home yesterday Hubs greeted me with his usual jocularity: “You probably won’t want to shower here for a while.” Oh joy, now what?
“Why is that?” I dared to ask.
“The water heater’s broken.”
This is the very same water heater that leaked for heaven knows how long, soaking the carpet in the front bedroom and causing us to haul everything into the (already crazy messy) living and dining rooms! The leak was repaired and things were rosy. Operative word there: were.
Seriously, how could Fate do this to me? I’ve been trying as hard as I can to stay upbeat and positive in the face of Hubs’ on-again/off-again black hole-level depressions. I don’t bite his head off. I make soothing noises and tell him it will all be okay. I get up, go to work, come home and repeat – Every. Frickin’. Day. And I will continue to do so until I’m dead – it’s unlikely I’ll ever be able to retire. But am I whining? Noooo. Well, yeah, I’m whining here, but I don’t whine to Hubs about it. Much. Not nearly as much as I whine about it in my head.
My reward for all that positivity? No hot water. Not a drop. Nada. You get the idea. Grump. Growl. Boo. Hiss!
Fate can suck it!