back to reality…

So it was probably Sunday night when I went out to the garden shed to get some juice and there was water spurting out of a pipe joint, and inch-deep ice all over the floor of the shed, and the spare box of kitty litter had ruptured and the catbox was also teh fonkay. We searched for a shutoff for the shed water, but couldn’t find anything, so DrBob wrapped the joint with aluminum tape.

And then on Monday, get up get dressed wake Sniglet feed cat make coffee make tea pack two lunches make a shopping list wash some dishes take Snig to school, notice halfway there that his front bike tire is completely flat, no wonder he was going so slow, guilt guilt guilt – deep breath – ride back alone, go to cash machine go to grocery store go to bakery get home Ignatz is still abed, despite having to be at school in 20 minutes, YELL. Pour tea in a travel cup, feed him bites of bread as he ties his shoes, shoo him out the door CALL PLUMBER. The dishwasher he ordered for us has arrived, he wants to come install it tomorrow, I say great, can you check this busted pipe too, and show us how to shut the water off, yes okay great. Pack books, cycle to Dutch class, huh, that pain in my knee doesn’t seem to be getting better, well, good thing I don’t have health insurance yet, because I don’t have time to go to the doctor. Cycle home, sit down for two minutes, Ignatz comes home, check his hands – he’s got neurodermitis again, it always shows up when he visits Oma & Opa, but this is the worst I’ve ever seen and it’s not getting better. Resolve to call doctor but not now, I’m late – strap bicycle pump to bike, fetch Sniglet. Can’t get it to work, have to call DrBob to fetch Snig and his bike. DrBob tries the same thing I tried, but it works for him. Grrr. Cycle home, try to work, can’t concentrate, make dinner, eat dinner, gee, DrBob looks like hell, watch Futurama with kids. Try to work some more, but DrBob has a letter from the tax guys, in Dutch bureaucratese, hard to figure out what it says but it doesn’t look like good news, hour and a half of arithmetic and him asking me questions I couldn’t possibly know the answer to about the mortgage and tax rates and the 30% rule, finally say I. DON’T. KNOW. loud enough to penetrate his aggravation, stagger upstairs check bus schedules on the computer because Snig’s tire is kaput, fall into bed. Can’t sleep. Worry.

Tuesday! Garbage day. Usual morning routine, only faster because Snig and I have to leave early to catch the bus. The bus route the computer gave me is bogus, try alternate route on the way back. It’s better, except the driver won’t open the door at my stop and I wind up walking home (remember that bum knee? Still there), when I arrive the plumber is there and half of our kitchen is in the living room, so I slog out to the shed and clean up the kitty litter mess so he can get at the problem pipe, get it out there JUST in time for the garbage truck, thank GOD, swig some orange juice, head off to Dutch class. Where they have COFFEE. We’re doing body parts and the imperative, so it’s a perfect chance for me and my teacher to role-play calling to make a doctor appointment for Ignatz. Cycle home, plumber’s still there because the dishwasher is all installed, but does not WORK. We don’t know why. The manufacturer (Bosch) can send a service person tomorrow, so the plumber will be back, oh and he’ll replace our little kitchen-sink water heater because ours is leaking and he’s got a slightly used one we can have. Also, there is no shut-off for the shed water pipe, we’ll have to do something about that in the spring. Okay, leave the plumber, get the bus to fetch the Sniglet, send him home alone from the bus stop so I can go shopping, start chili, wash dis… uh-oh. Right, since the plumber’s going to hook up a new water heater tomorrow, he left it unhooked, so no hot water. So no clean dishes. Argue with Ignatz about whether he needs to go to the doctor, he says no, I say yes. Dinner, made in the cast-iron skillet; I took Melanie’s advice, re-seasoned it and pretended the whole thing never happened. Talk about DrBob’s work situation, and whether we can afford €1000 for the next-level intensive Dutch course, Futurama, blog.

So tomorrow. Ig was late today, so he has to get to school half an hour early tomorrow, i.e. 7:45, so we both have to get up early. Gotta call the doctor at 8 if I want an appointment the same day, and Snig and I have to leave at 8:10 to get the bus. The plumber and the Bosch-guy should get here shortly after we leave, DrBob’ll have to let them in. Homework, work-work, pick up Snig at noon on Wednesdays. Then we have to get him up to Zuilen for his DTP booster; the bus to school goes to Zuilen as well, but the stupid office doesn’t open until 1:30 so we can’t just go straight from school. Ig gets home from school at 4, Snig needs a new bike, and DrBob has to be there when we buy it, but he has meetings, so we meet him at the bike shop at 4:30, not sure if Ig can deal with the doctor on his own, especially since he doesn’t even want to go, and also not sure how to fit that appointment into tomorrow. Thursday? Doctor’s office closes at 5 and he gets out of school at 4:15, so hm.

None of this sounds like extraordinary circumstances, does it? I think it’s just normal life, but it’s really kicking my ass. I can’t remember if life was like this before we went to Germany for two weeks. Also, I am NOT coming down with a cold. This isn’t sniffling, it’s… it’s… um…

Oh, just hell.

Song du jour of the day: Push, by Matchbox 20.

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3 responses to “back to reality…

  • Kel

    Let me know if I can help in any way…

    😦

  • Melanie

    Ei-i-i. Glad the pretending it never happened thing seems to have worked with the cast iron and sorry about everything else. Can you not buy a bike without DrBob because no matter what you choose he will say he would have chosen better/paid less/done a better job at the whole thing? Many things are like that with me and Kick (“do it your fucking self then and in a timely fashion!!!”). This whole new-country thing has got to be stressful, don’t be hard on yourself. Love love.

  • Elemmaciltur

    Oh geez….that sounds stressful.

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