Once each month I have a breakdown. And when I calm down, I chalk it up to it having been that "time of the month." But I swear, there are many months when it's not just my out-of-whack hormones that send me into couch-punching cursefests or uncontrollable crying fits (when I'm by myself, of course). It really does seem that the moon and planets align against me and crazy shit always seems to rain down at my most vulnerable time.
Take for instance this past weekend... I was told that we owe the IRS about $3,500 and had to hear that it's "my fault" because I do too much freelance work. As if I should turn down legal, lucrative work opportunities to spite the government. Oh, but we need to buy a house so we have a write-off. Which means I need to keep making money. Do you see where I'm going with this? But it is what it is... and I wasn't all that surprised, and have been socking cash away for this rainy day.
Onto the next day, a snowy one, actually. Here I am trying to calm down a tantrum-throwing J.J. (yes, we've just entered that fun new phase) while sitting double-parked in our car because we couldn't find a spot on my block for a half hour. I manage to get him to laugh only to turn around to see that a traffic cop was writing me a $115 ticket... even though I was in the car... and it was running... and I had no problem moving it... hence why I stayed in the car... but the biatch didn't tell me to move because and I quote, "it's not her job"!!! (Can you hear the fury in my angry typing?!) After I threw a tantrum of my own, the experience helped reinforce the idea that a new house with a driveway would be fabulous. That night, the falling snow was pretty, and J.J.'s excitement over it made me smile.
But when it rains (or snows), it pours. Right now, I'm listening to that pretty snow drip into J.J.'s room. The roof is leaking again. Drip. It's so freakin' (drip) annoying, distracting, and infuriating since (drip) I realize this means I'll be paying for a whole new roof for a house I don't plan to live in much longer (DRIP!). The last three people who patched it up -- yes, this is a reoccuring problem -- said we can't put off getting a new roof if it leaks again, "but you won't have to worry about it for at least five years"). Or in reality, more like six months. Just in time to ruin the vacation plans I finally convinced myself were OK to make, even though I just got slammed on my taxes and should be saving for that house with ample parking.
And to top it off? I just got my period. Wait -- that's good news! Things can go back to normal again. 'Til next month...