You’re never going to believe this, but yesterday my landlord came over to fix our shower (for the fourth time), turned off the water in the house, dismantled the faucets and the shower head, knocked a huge hole in the wall—and collapsed of a heart attack.
He had to be carried out by the EMS.
The guy is 84 God bless him, but that same God forbids he should hire a real plumber to fix things so he wouldn’t have to shlep from the basement all the way upstairs with pipes and things. His sons came by later that night to make sure we had water (amazingly, and I mean AMAZINGLY, I had once watched him turn the water back on during one of his previous attempts at plumberhood) which was very nice of them—and him.
He, from all reports, is going to be fine-ish….
We have been shleping ourselves to the basement for weeks now to shower, and the holes in the kitchen ceiling certify that room to be, I believe, a kosher sukkah.
It never ends.
Also yesterday I went to traffic court (for the second time) to try to pay my penalty for talking on a cell phone while driving. I pleaded (plead?) guilty to the judge the first time but he actually winked at me (!) and told me that I had such extenuating circumstances
(I was taking Aaron to the orthopaedist and the Dr.’s office was calling and I was pulling over to take the call) that I should come back and plead not guilty.
So I did, BUT the officer was out sick so I have to wait for them to send me my rescheduled appearance in the mail. It never ends.
Sruli’s divorce proceeding never ends. One of my favorite people in the world is on a never-ending quest to have a baby, and my heart bleeds for her. A few friends are on Odysseys to find husbands. Another acquaintance can’t seem to let go of her zero-sum-game philosophy of life, and she is always losing.
Philo of Alexandria (20BC- 50AD, Sruli just looked it up for me, thank you) said
“Be kind, for everyone you meet is in the midst of a great struggle.”
Compared to the great struggles I feel humbly lucky, but my battle of the bulge is my pekl, my burden, and I was not a great warrior today. I backslid, because I was looking better and forgot that I have to keep at it keep at it keep at it because if I take my eyes off the prize for even one second, something bad is going in my mouth.
My beautiful step-daughter (whose countdown clock by her bed is set to her emancipating 18th birthday—NO ONE should know from this kind of hell) told me today that people who get really excited about a little thing like food are happy people. I love her even more for saying that to me, but I envy her for thinking that food is a little thing.
I had a waffle, half a wheat bagel, tuna salad, one of those Starbucks chocolate grahams, another multigrain bagel with jam, a chicken breast and 3 cups of quinoa with veggies from Trader Joes, and some frozen yogurt and 6 pomegranate-infused chocolate ball things . Last night I took my big boys to Patsys and we ate like you can’t believe.
My big boys are poopoopoo beautiful and run track so they can carbo-load. I give a little kvetch at the gym for a couple of hours each week so I can’t.
I guess I will try to internalize that stupid diet mantra—tomorrow is another day.
But really I know better—it never ends.