|If you need a detailer in the Philly area, Chris from Hunter's Finish Line is the man for you. I am happy to pass along his info, he finished the clean up and got it back to looking how I never dreamed it would look again.|
I've had good practice admitting defeat lately as I have been involved in a series of unfortunate events that have me throwing in the towel at the end of the day, secure in the knowledge that a new day dawns tomorrow. Admitting defeat allows me to test if the resilience I pride myself on is still intact.
Between the paint fuckery in my car last Wednesday (entirely my fault, I still shiver when I think about it), two sort of broken toilets and one actually cracked toilet at the shore this weekend that may or may not have leaked into our efficiency apartment (I'll find out the extent of the damage this weekend, no one's fault), and a 12 day old new storm door ripped out of the frame on the porch down there (probably someone's fault), I've been putting out fires like a fucking boss.
When a series of small shitstorms happens in quick succession and it begins to feel like a larger problem, I don't ask why can't I catch a break because I've caught a million breaks in my life and I don't need or deserve one right now because it's all still small shit. Throwing pity parties is so not my style either, because I fucking hate pity parties especially when I'm the hostess and sole attendee. It feels self indulgent and boring. I do throw a mean tantrum though...which is also self indulgent but rarely boring, hahaha. In the grand scheme of things these are mosquitos on the skin of life.
The first thing I do is deal with it because the only way through it is through it. I do what I can to put the fire out or call who I need to call to fix it. The second thing I do is find the humor because honestly my first instinct is never cry - it's always laugh - unless I am stuck somewhere in a travel related hell. The third thing I do is try to spin it funny. If I am dealing with some pain in the ass thing, I can at least attempt to entertain others with the tale. So when I share a WTF/ugh moment, never feel bad laughing at me. Life is messy and messy is good material for laughs.
I don't think I'll be able to top the fact that I drove home from Pier 1 with green dog poop bags on my hands after the paint incident for quite a while. That mess will live in infamy. Thank God for dogs. And the fact that they need us to carry bags for their poop.