I just said in a recent post that I’ll always be happy. Hmm. Guess I meant that in a general sort of way – as in acknowledging the ups and downs of life and figuring there will always be more ups.
Not so happy right now.
The garage door is busted.
And two elements on the stove blew – with loud “pop” sounds and sparks. I’m afraid to turn on the other elements or the stove. I had a little cry after the second pop/spark. It scared me. While malfunctioning stoves are not worth shedding tears over, when this sort of thing comes on top of other stuff, I “pop” too.
All the other stuff is too boring, mundane, personal or private to mention. But I will say this – it all took place in the span of 24 hours.
I’m going to look on the bright side of having a stove that terrifies me. I will not be doing any cooking until it’s fixed. And if the repairman says I need a new stove? Then my no-cooking days will be extended even longer.
The realities of life are screaming for my attention. Maybe the pops and the sparks were simply a means to accomplish that. It worked.
Hours later – the repairman finally called back. After it was established that he thinks he can fix it, this is how the conversation went.
Me: “So, after you think it’s fixed do you promise to turn on the elements and stove full blast and wait around for awhile to see what happens?” (Just telling me it’s fixed will never be good enough.)
Him: “I promise.”
Me: “One more promise?”
Him: “Uh, yeah?”
Me: “If the oven and stove are already on and good to go, will you make dinner?”
Him: “Ha! (big laugh) You might not like my cooking!”
Me: “I like anybody’s cooking as long as I’m not the one having to do it.”
Him: “Pasta okay?”
Me: “Sounds great.”
He thinks I’m kidding.