If I had a Sharpie (which I do, but for the purposes of this sentence let’s just pretend I don’t), I could draw a line and divide September into two distinct parts: The great first half, and the totally and completely and perversely sucky second half. Unfortunately, I’m still living in that last part.
I’m thinking about going to bed now and waking up in October. Like, sometime in the second week. Which would make for a really long nap, but who cares?
It’s been that bad.
So I already told you about ACFW, which was awesome and took place in the cool, first half of the month. I mean, who doesn’t like being surrounded by book-loving writers twenty-four seven? It rocked. It was, well…awesome. But I already said that.
And then I came home to a broken air conditioner. A broken air conditioner in the sense that it’s dead. Unfixable. Not working and won’t be working until we replace it sometime next spring, because why replace it now when we’re so close to winter? Except that for the past week we’ve lived in the eighty-dregree-ish range around here which totally doesn’t feel like winter at all but feels more like the beach in June minus the wind and really cool broken sandollars washed up on my front porch.
Anyway.
And then a toilet broke.
And then I lost a new pair of pants that I still haven’t found.
And then I locked myself out of my house wearing a t-shirt and not much else and had to break myself back inside using nothing but a putty knife and a few questionable words even though a window in the front of my house was open but I couldn’t get to it because it was broad daylight and I was ONLY WEARING A T-SHIRT so I was forced to stay hidden in my garage.
My gosh.
But the bad times weren’t over.
**keep reading at your own risk**
Because this weekend our puppy ran in the street and got hit by a lone, passing motorist. Dove straight for the tires like she was on a mission. One minute playing happily in the yard and the next… I can’t finish that thought.
This happened on Friday. And I’m totally. Not. Kidding.
I mean for the love of all that is good and pure in this crazy, freaked-out world…our puppy. Our CHRISTMAS puppy that Santa brought in his sleigh nine months ago and deposited under our tree for my deserving kids who’d waited so long for a permanent dog to love. Our puppy.
My gosh.
It’s been a sad few days. I have a few heartbroken kids.
But we’ll get through it because that’s what we do. We’ll strap on our brave pants (because this time we’ll actually remember to WEAR them) and get back to living life. And sometime in that life we’ll get a new dog, because everyone’s already been asking.
But for now, it’s almost October, folks. It’s almost fall. It’s nearly time for holidays, which automatically means this season of life will definitely be better. But if not, I’ve got my Sharpie in my front pocket to black out the bad days. Hopefully—Lord willing—there won’t be many.
And hopefully—Lord willing—a cold front will come barreling through and make this no-air conditioning thing a distant memory. Come on, Snow!!
Prayers for a good week—
