Monday, August 18, 2008

Troubles Never Come Alone

I went over to the hospital this morning with my giant blue mylar dolphin balloon to give Mom and there wasn't a parking space to be had for love nor money. The visiting hours at the ICU in the AM are short: 9:30 to 10:00 only, and I was wasting precious time driving slow circles around the parking deck and cursing a lot, so I parked completely illegally. Then Mom was asleep anyway, but that's okay: when she wakes up she'll see a giant blue mylar dolphin floating around her ceiling and it will, hopefully, make her happy if it doesn't scare her comatose again. Also hopefully she won't touch the Hershey's Kiss shaped weight thingie, because it is wrapped in some kind of shiny blue stuff that rubs off apparently indelible blue ink all over your hands. I washed my hands the requisite four times with the alcohol stuff and it only made it worse, as did the soap and water treatment. Oh well. Sometimes your intentions are pure and yet the mission is not an entire success.

This could also be said of my house deal, which would appear to be falling through again, which makes me want to fucking cry. I don't understand why this has to be so hard and why it is so goddamn difficult for me to do even the simplest things that other people take for granted. I also don't understand why the federal government will not give me a housing loan unless the garage of the house in question is painted, because that does not, somehow, seem to me like a burning safety issue. I see their point about the heaters and the wiring in the basement but the handrails on four steps in the yard and the paint on the porch and garage seem totally ridiculous and I just want to tear my hair out and weep and shriek a lot. God damn it, I'm never going to own a house, am I? I had accepted this truth years ago and given up and then I thought I'd try again only to find that of course, my hubris is being slapped down by the gods again.

This world is a cold and unfriendly place where all kinds of stupid random stuff happens all the time and none of it is balanced or fair or means one tiny goddamn thing because it's just the random action of random particles, except for the part that's run by an evil gnome with an evil sense of humor who is cackling evilly to himself at the controls of his giant evil machine where he engineers the random stuff to be slightly less random and purely more evil. I wish I had never crossed his radar.


Lori said...

So sorry you're dealing with crazy house issues on top of your mother's surgery. I am so glad to read she is off the vent. Take good care.


Edgy Mama said...

Damn, girl.

Hospitals are funky places. I spent several days in the Neurology ICU at Emory U. last year with my Dad, and I thought that I'd write about the totally weird subculture of people who wandered the corridors, but by the time we got out of there, I just wanted to block it all out.

Sending more warm thoughts and healing vibes.