Then the Universe Laughed

You know the other day how I wrote about being proud of handling, coping, and duct taping. Well apparently the universe would have no such thing and set about to literally break me in half. It almost did. 

It's been 25 days since Jigger left. 25 days since I had a shoulder to cry on. A warm body beside me to let me know the world is not cold. A calming voice to soothe the raging volcano that simmers constantly inside of me. 25 days since I didn't shake. 25 days of uncertainty. 

It might not seem like much but it's a very long time. 

So the other day when I said I was coping. Barely but coping, the universe apparently having nothing better to do and no evil villain to chase set about making me eat a little crowpie. And yesterday I broke. 

During the last 25 days, I have managed a flooded house, having my two Sil's and their 4 children here, disconnected internet, a twice broken computer that died on the second go round, a computer that is my lifeline to the world, a computer that keeps me on the edge of sanity, a computer that is my freedom, and it died, but I didn't break. I duct taped instead. I configured my husband's computer to mine and used my husband's instead. I didn't break, but I was barely holding on. 

Then day before yesterday I went to get a drink of water. I was thirsty I mean after all it was 120 degrees. That makes me thirsty. Except the water wasn't cold. It was lukewarm. I passed it off on not being in the fridge long enough and went to bed. But when I woke up the water was completely hot and the fan was off. You remember the fan? The fan that sits behind the fridge to keep it cool so that our stuff is cold. Yeah that fan it was off. That's when I broke. 

32 days ago we spent a month's salary repairing that fridge. A month's salary that we didn't have. A month's salary that we got by selling things. Things like room air coolers that make the air feel slightly less like it came from hell. But fridges are more important than not sweating. 

So upon the fan off and the water hot, I broke. I had a full on panic attack.There were tears. Lots of tears. And snot. Lots of snot. I become a snot factory when I cry. It pisses me off. Which makes me cry more which makes more snot which pisses me off. I hate snot. 

I couldn't eat dinner. What were we going to do? I had no idea. I couldn't keep duct taping. I can't keep carrying burden after burden after burden. I lay in the pitch black dark in my room and cried and cursed. I swore at my BIL who was sitting on his ass watching TV who had done jack shit nothing to help. Who had done absolutely nothing for me in these 25 days. Whenever I needed anything I had to call a friend of my husband's. He's a little guy. Younger than my BIL by about 4-5 yrs. Not even 21 yet. Not family. Nothing. Just a friend who worships my husband. Whatever I needed, big or small. One text to him and he was at my door within 15 mins. No grudges. No complaints. Happy that he could do something for me and all the while my BIL sat, watching TV, stomach full while mine rumbled. Not once did it cross his mind that he needed to get the fuck up and do SOMETHING. Then I cried some more and made some more snot. 

After about 8 hrs of snot making, I got up off of the floor, sent a few emails. Pretended I was chicken little and "the sky was falling". Made more snot. Then slowly I took out my duct tape and began to work. I pieced this and poked that. A plan slowly began rolling in my brain. A small plan. Was it possible? Maybe. Dunno. WTF let's try it and see.

Yep, that worked. Let's see if this piece fits here. No not really but that one does. More duct tape less snot. After about 5 hrs, I had a plan. It wasn't perfect but it would work. I could get the fridge fixed without having to sell my lifeline to the world. Without having to surrender my freedom. I felt better. Calmer. 

Then the universe threw me a curveball because fucking hell that is what the universe does. I went to give my MIL the monthly house allowance except I only gave her half. I told her that I would fix my computer and fridge and depending on how much I had left next week I would give her some more. 

She didn't complain. She was helpful. And pissed. Pissed at my BIL who lay sleeping a few feet away. Pissed that prices of everything have doubled AGAIN from last month. Pissed that only I seem to try and her son who is responsible sits there and does fuck all. I was shocked, but decided to see how far I could go with this. 

She wanted him to bring the fridge repairman. You know the one we paid 32 days ago a month's salary. She said she wasn't paying him a damn dime. He would fix it but she couldn't get him to come because my BIL wouldn't get off his ass. She asked me to ask my lil guy if he would bring the fridge repairman. It was a bit of abuse of my position but fuck I needed a drink of something cooler than brimstone so I agreed to the evil deed. A few hours later I msged him, 15 mins he was at my door. Fridge was duct taped. 

I sit here writing this post with a cold glass of water sweating by my side. It's not permanently fixed but when my husband comes he can make the final adjustments. It didn't cost me a month's salary. I still have both my kidneys. At least until the next crisis then who knows.

How much do you think I could get on craigslist for a kidney? I need to keep my options open.