Multitude of sins

I didn't feel any age at all, just giddy with surprise at the paradox that I may have looked sort of old on the outside, but felt so young on the inside. It's almost everyone's secret -- that we look in the mirror, saying, 'Who is that old person?' But inside there's pretty much the same person you always were. A lot of stuff falls off -- your vision, your youth, your memory -- but there's better stuff left behind.
~ Anne Lamott, in Salon

Did somebody declare today the official start of the Christmas shopping season and forget to tell me?

I was out running errands today, and every place was packed. And I didn't go anywhere near a mall. I went to JoAnn to pick up a button for a bag I'm knitting and, I swear, every crafty woman in Overland Park was there. They were having a sale, and the place was jammed. I bought two buttons--found some very cool pewter toggle-shaped ones--and a couple of Christmas gift bags that I'm going to use to carry my lunch (I've run out of Bath & Body Works bags, and my last Godiva bag bit the dust last week), and that was it.

Bed, Bath and Beyond was packed, too, and I didn't end up buying anything there. Same at Borders, although it didn't seem as crowded as everywhere else. I looked at knitting books and decided to try to get them at the library first, so I'll do that tomorrow.

I haven't been writing. At all. I started, and wrote a few thousand words, but I hated them, and while I know that being "good" wasn't the point, I couldn't stand them, and couldn't go ahead with it. So I scrapped everything I'd done, and started over, but I wasn't that crazy about them, either.

Long story short, no writing. I pretty much blew of all of last week; and I was sick. Some kind of weird, crampy intermittent pain that had me scouring the internet for symptoms, and then finding some very scary things that are almost certainly not what it is/was. In fact, from evidence yesterday, I'm guessing now that it's hormonal (no details!) and that I'd probably better call my doctor tomorrow.

And my chair broke. And I didn't flop down into it or anything, I was just sitting in it, minding my own business, and SPROING! a spring broke. So now when I sit in it, the wall behind it is the only thing keeping it from toppling completely over.

And we're having to replace the roof. That's another long story, but basically one of our neighbors mentioned that she had a leak, and that when she had someone come out to take a look, he said she had hail damage. So we called our insurance company (and can I just say right here how much I hate insurance companies?) and the guy came out and looked, and said that we had some damage, although it was "marginal." But we live in a four-plex, and the person with the leak can't just replace her roof while we do nothing, so we really have no choice.

Fortunately, the insurance adjustor understood that and put in the claim for replacement cost less depreciation. And then, supposedly, what will happen is that we have to pay the rest of the replacement cost, then submit the bill to the insurance company and they will reimburse us. Kind of a complicated process, although the roofer said that he could submit the bill directly to the insurance company instead, so it's possible we might not be out any money.

Stressful anyway. And right before going into winter! They're going to have to hurry, but one of the four-plex neighbors hasn't even contacted her insurance company yet, so who knows?

What else? Oh, how could I forget? Dinah is still peeing on the sofa. Poor Bob has spent a fortune and an incredible amount of energy trying to disinfent and de-scent the sofa cushions, and right now the sofa has no cushions, and she peed right on the sofa base. So who knows what's going on there? My theory is that something--no idea what for sure, although my guess is all the construction going on around us this fall (Oh, man, just think what it's going to be like when they're working on OUR roof!)--caused her to freak out and pee on the sofa, and now it's like it's her job to cover up the scent that only she can smell.

Pyewacket occasionally gets up there and sniffs, and knows there's something going on there, but she just looks at us like, "What's the deal with Dinah?"

It's extremely stressful and frustrating; we've decided now there's nothing to do except get rid of the sofa. It's old anyway, and Bob's wanted to get rid of it for a long time. The problem is, of course, that we don't know what will happen if we get a new one--is Dinah's issue with the current sofa, or is it something else? Bob would really blow a fuse if we got a new sofa and she peed on that

His current plan is to get someone to haul off the old sofa, and put lawn furniture in the living room temporarily (or, actually, folding chairs--he's thinking camo pattern), and then if all goes well, buy new furniture after the first of the year.

So that's my saga for the week. Sick, stressed out, no writing. Oh, but I did do a little knitting. I'm working on a small pouch purse to be felted. I'm not totally sure about it, but hopefully the felting will hide a multitude of sins and, if not, well, there are other patterns.