Just Call Me Murphy Part 267 - hey! I thought I was DONE??

So, I really don't know where to start with this, because every time I start one of these entries about "you're never gonna guess what happened now," something new happens. I suppose I could start anywhere, but then it'd sound like I was keeping a list of all the bad shit that's ever happened to me, and if any of us kept one of those, we'd be here all season. It hasn't been the best year. It's been one thing after another. I'll refrain from repeating the list thus far, because at some point, someone's going to go (I'm sure they have already), is that all this bitch does is wallow in sarcastic self-pity?

No. My life just really is that ridunkulous.

But this week it finally got funny.

This week, I had a bad dizzy spell at work that made me trip and almost fall; then ended up ill for 4 entire days at home with that and a severe cold. My dishwasher breaks (to keep up with my washer's twice breaking, I suppose), my new pill gives me high blood pressure, so I might have to go on one to counteract it, and now have appointments with a host of new specialists. I went back to school and I may have to withdraw because of all the time I'm missing from classes. I'm sure I'm down almost a full letter grade, if not two.

So today, my 4th day of being ill and probably the worst I've physically felt, I'm trying to hang up some towels in the bathroom and the concrete part of my towel bar COMES OUT OF THE WALL.

I mean, like, OUT of the wall.


Which I cannot fix.

So now =, in my house, I have a laundry room closet with no door, a half-working dishwasher, a washer that works when it wants, a wood floord with wet spots, a dirty rug I cannot clean because I cannot lift the trunk on top of it, and a towel bar I can't replace. And I'm pretty handy, too - which is the scary part.

I think I'm going to pee myself laughing.

I had to call my mom instantly to tell her - "ok, I've finally gotten to the point where I can start laughing." Except it sounds more like an old man laughing, because I'm so congested that my voice has dropped from somewhere between a mezzosoprano and an alto to barely an alto.

"Mom," I said, "I think someone has a voodoo doll on me." Then I thought about the ridiculosity of that statement and had to laugh some more. I mean, if it weren't for shit like this, I'd have nothing to blog about but my 3-ishmiler on Sunday.

(My friend Steve says, "I confess, it's me; I have the voodoo doll on you. But at least it's life size. Heeeeey, that was a good short joke, right?")

And then I thought about what my dad would say at times like these. He'd look at me and say, "Well, this is like eating an elephant. You just have to take it one bite at a time."

I'm going back to sleep now. I'm safe there. In the meantime, I hope you're as amused as I am.

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