Yesterday the hardware was removed from my wrist (all but the plate which is slated to stay indefinitely). It was a surgical procedure but unlike the two previous the pain was minimal and I was fully conscious before I left the facility. I was conscious enough, in fact, to check on the condition of my flooded RV. Stop here if you have had enough of my life troubles (I know I have).

Monday I stopped at my RV (to feed and water the cats) and found it flooded. It seems that the main line into the RV burst and the water sprayed for a while before some kind soul turned off the water. I asked the asst. manager if he knew what had happened and he said no but the woman who lives behind me saw the water leaking that morning (of course she didn�t turn off the water, she�s a peach that one). Anyway, I spent Monday evening cleaning out the RV while my darling Beau vacuumed the water out of the rugs and cleared out the under storage. My keyboard escaped damage as did my books but many items that were not protected in plastic containers were destroyed. My wrist has interfered with my ability to finish repair and remodel of the unit so that I can sell it and be done with it all. Wrist or no wrist I have no choice, repair must be done.

You know I hate to complain (although lately it seems to be all that I am capable of) but I�m beginning to believe there might be a God and that he is really mad at me. I can�t seem to make an entire week without some disaster. What amazes me is that there is anything left to go wrong. At times I have claimed to have Murphy seated firmly on my shoulder but this is approaching ridiculous. My life is not without good but after a while people (meaning friends and significant others) have to get a little tired of always having to help you out of one disaster after another. I don�t think I could be my friend. It would just get too exhausting.

If that�s not enough I am suffering from sleep deprivation due to the night time adventures of my cat. It seems that one of the neighborhood strays has taken a shine to my kitty. He, being a very social cat raised in a house full of cats, is not adjusting well to his single cat hood thus he is sleeping all day and spending the nights conversing with the feral cat much to our irritation. I was hesitant to bring the cat to my Beaus because I was afraid he might damage and/or annoy and he has only remained this long because my Darling does not want to �be the reason I gave up my cats� and �grew up with cats and wanted one for a long time�. Trouble is he gets cranky at 3 am when he can�t sleep and I then feel guilty. I understand that my guilt has nothing to do with him. He is neither blaming me nor requiring me to �fix� things. But I feel guilt nonetheless and so I want to be rid of the irritation all the more. I have never in my life lived in a house without pets. Dogs and cats especially have been a part of my daily existence until last year when I all but moved in with my Beau and discovered the freedom and ease of living pet less. I like it. I like not being on puke patrol. I like not having to de-hair my clothing before heading to work. I enjoy the freedom of vacuuming just once a week (oh the joy!) rather than everyday. I just don�t think they deliver sufficiently to endure all the discomfort of pet ownership.

See what I mean? I am just a walking disaster area (stand back or you might get sucked into my vortex of doom).

Anne Frank saw the good in mankind and life under conditions far worse than I endure. Children face illness and death with more dignity than I can muster at the moment. I feel weak in the face of the crashing wave upon wave of misfortune that seems to be my destiny or at the very least my lot in life.

How do I rise to the point that I can stand tall in the face of catastrophe? Where is the font of strength that so many draw from to face their incredible hardships with dignity and grace? How do I stop the tears from falling as I wade through the water in the only place I have as my own and one handedly work to remove waterlogged heirlooms from flooded storage areas? How did I ever earn the reputation for being strong when I feel so weak and helpless in the turbulence of my life?

What did I say the other day? That�s right I remember, I can still see the good, so here goes�

I have a job I don�t hate.
I have a man that I love who loves me back.
I am soon to be fully recovered from my broken bone.
I have friends who love and support me.
My family stands by me (from far away, as best they can).
And I still don�t smoke or drink.

Good things all the way around I say.

I wish you Peace

~alison~

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