Day Two Hundred Sixty-Six

March 2020 can absolutely go die in a fire as far as I'm concerned, but it didn't just take things away. It did hand us a few small gifts. Like, it handed us a hail storm.

What's that? A hail storm doesn't sound like a gift? OH, BUT IT IS. First it was a gift because I didn't even know it happened. It was apparently in the middle of the night and I truly had no clue, which means it didn't wake up the small terrorist that still sometimes ruins my nights. While causing no disruption to life, it managed to trash our roof.

What's that? It still doesn't sound like a gift? It is when you're all caught up on your insurance payments and a replacement roof is covered. Even better, the roof was 3-4 years away from needing to be replaced no matter what, so thanks, March 2020! I much prefer a covered-under-insurance roof than an out-of-my-pocket roof.

2020 being what it is, though, that new roof didn't get installed until this week. I don't know why it took nearly nine months, but there it is. What is time at this point, if not irrelevant? So, months after it should have happened, a large crew of very loud humans descended on our home.

They did it on the same day that the wood floor in our living room was getting installed. That's a whole other level of delayed gratification, for what it's worth. The carpet in that room has been a special kind of disgusting since we moved into this house 9 years ago. It never got replaced because dogs, cats, kids ... there were a lot of very messy and destructive reasons we never got to it. But better 9 years late than never? We'll go with that.

So, there was an army of sasquatch on the roof pounding and hammering and clanking and slamming. I work from upstairs, by the way. The sasquatch were directly over my head proving that my children aren't the loudest humans on earth. Downstairs there was pounding and air compressors. Throw in two REALLY freaked out dogs, the normal cacophony that Mila carries with her everywhere she goes and ... ugh. UGH.

So frustrating.

I literally couldn't hear myself think, which was great because I had meetings to attend. I didn't have advance notice that the marching band and sasquatch and all of that were going to collide in one day, so I had to roll with it. I was doing mostly okay until I heard it.

A chirp.

And then a minute later, another chirp.

A smoke detector chose that exact moment to have a low battery.

Under normal circumstances, it takes FOREVER to find the chirping smoke detector. When sasquatch are stomping and nails are being slammed, it takes FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER.

I found it eventually, but not until I had about 20 new grey hairs and a desire to commit several acts of violence. At least I didn't end up in jail?

Comments

[AKuipers]

We have a parrot who learned to mimic the low battery chirp one year when the landlord where my husband lived refused to come in to replace the very very tall ceiling's smoke detector for a week. It is even less fun than it sounds...