you know how you hear about these regular people who, when faced with adversity, show a beautiful resilience, a greatness of spirit, a breathtaking ability to rise above the shit life has thrown at them and emerge shining and strong?
clearly, i am not one of those people.
yesterday was a day that began with a whole bunch of swear words and ended with me lying on the couch with the blanket over my head, hooked up intravenously to my i-pod's soothing tunes selection, periodically reminding my husband that no, i still couldn't hear him, on account of having headphones on AND having my head covered by a blanket, so he would not continue to waste his breath, especially since each time i paused my music, there he'd be, talking about more things that made me want to return to the womb pronto.
no, no divorce is in the works. none of us had an affair. our house has not been broken into and i am pretty certain our parents still love us. so what had me knotted into a fetal position? why, the intricacies of the BC landlord and tenant act. the fact that we need to fill out roughly seventeen forms and sign them in triplicate in our own blood before forwarding them to our tenants who will then have to do the same. the idiocy of the resident manager who thinks that it is inconceivable that one tenant should move out and on that very same day another should move in. the fact that i am permanently twisted at the hips not, as i suspected, because of some birth defect (ha! this i could live with! it's got a certain byronic romantic quality to it) but because i am now regularly lugging about not one, not two, not three but four sets of keys around in my purse.
ok, i have enough self-awareness and analytical skills to realise that my melt-down is based on a rather enviable situation.
because, you see, we could be calculating whether we have enough money to feed little timmy, whether daddy can have that operation he needs to regain his sight, or whether we will have enough to cover the rent and utilities. we could be living in a van down by the river for fuckssakes!
instead my gut twists because i have tenant issues, issues which assume some real estate ownership and a pretty decent lifestyle. yeah, poor moi.
so while i am perfectly aware of the flimsiness of my pathos, i still have the physical reaction of a two year old, who just wants to put a blankie over her head and hope the big scary things go away.
so, yeah, world? please don't throw anything substantial at me, like...oh, i don't know, a war? a nuclear holocaust? terminal illness? because i have been tested and found wanting in the small stuff department. i suspect that something serious would have me mixing myself a nice cocktail 3 parts gin and one part rat poison, and cranking up the tunes.