Have you ever seen a Southern Woman throw a wall-eyed hissy with a red rubber tail? Someone is fixin to.
I did the math, I’ve been gone 152 days out of a possible 275 so far this year.That is almost 22 weeks away from my family. 21.7 weeks to be exact. Seven of those days were for fun. I spent my friend’s 50th birthday with them. The rest of those days weren’t even close.
In that time:
- My mother died.
- I missed my 25th wedding anniversary and my 50th birthday.
- The airplane I was on caught on fire and had to make an emergency landing in the middle of a runway.
- The apartment I was renting had bed bugs – I’m violently allergic to those by the way and the pain inflicted was incredible. I had to go to a small town ER where they were so freaked out that they tested me for everything from HIV to Ebola. I have scars on my arms and legs people. SCARS!
- The night gal at the new hotel had pet rats that stayed on her shoulders while she worked – RATS people, think about that for a minute, will you?
- After dealing with bed bugs and rats, I not so wisely decided I was better off sleeping in my dead mother’s home while I organized her estate. I do not recommend that. For one thing, that’s just heartbreaking really and for another it’s creepy sleeping there alone, especially if oh I don’t know – her radio suddenly turns on in the middle of the night when you are there.
I left. Locked the doors and flew home.
The house can wait.
Why am I about to unload crazy? I gave a guy $3,000 to clean up my trees while I was gone. He did half the job and won’t come back. Oh he says he will, but he never does — really? While it is true, thatI know better – half up front, half when he’s done, I was in a crisis and had to be in NY to take care of Mom while she died so I trusted him on good faith. And I came home to learn, NOPE he didn’t do it. Even after my husband hounded him.
My best pecan trees are dead now.
That good faith is gone. Not a good choice for that man.