A few nights later, I take
Duct Tape Motif--all the rage! |
It’s decided that two things are needed immediately: a knob without a push lock and blinds (custom cut, of course). The new knob is installed in 3 seconds and I’m feeling so capable. I got this homeowner shit. I painted the two walls to get the blinds and that had its own set of issues. Seriously, painters earn every dollar they charge. What a pain in my tush. It’s time to put the blinds up and of course THEY DON’T FIT. I cut my finger opening the box and installing the hardware so I’m bleeding everywhere. I haven’t showered and I’m covered in teal paint. I’m a disgusting mess so it’s the perfect time to go to Lowe’s AGAIN. I box up the blinds and start questioning if I can do anything alone. I, obviously, can’t measure. I can’t install anything without the help of a man (or equally capable female friend). What made me think I could own a house alone? I’m irritated and seconds from tears and I realize while the man is cutting my blinds AGAIN that I stink—legitimately stink.
The blinds came with their own set of issues but after a few supportive phone calls from Pappadopolous they’re installed. As I sat and admired my work of the day I realized I need to calm down with the woe-is-me mentality. Yes, it would have been nice to have someone to call when I was locked out but without breaking a window a locksmith was probably needed. Sure, it would have been nice to have someone troubleshoot when I kept hitting the header around the window and couldn’t get the blinds up. They’re currently up with one screw and a few prayers, by the way.
While getting ready for work on Wednesday morning the doorbell rang and it scared the bejeezus out of me. It was my neighbor, the one who helped me in my lockout, and she had this look of apprehension on her face. “What now?” I thought.
Neighbor, “Have you been in the backyard?”
Me: “No, why what’s up?”
Neighbor: “Let’s go take a look at the back.”
Me: “Why is it bad?”
A tree in the land behind me lost a limb and took out a portion of the fence, which isn’t mine. Whew. Silver linings all around as it could be so much worse. It’s another frustration. It’s another woe-is-me opportunity. It’s another reminder that I have to handle crap on my own.
I had a little pep talk with me, “It’s time to suck it up, buttercup. Quit crying when stuff is frustrating and seems tough and figure it out. You are not a damsel in distress and have overcome way bigger problems than having to have your blinds trimmed. Put a Band-Aid on that cut and keep it moving!”
I think I got the memo.
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