Sunday, December 28, 2014

cheery thoughts

I'm depressed, and I hate nearly everyone and everything.

Happy holidays!

Friday, December 05, 2014

enduring, enduring

Ever since the horrible week in which my mother and one of the Sober Husband's brothers both unexpectedly passed away on the very same day, I've been in a deep, dark depression.  My forms of self-medication have involved sitting on the couch sipping prosecco (a day drink, thankyouverymuch) and eating home-made Chex mix, something I associate with my mother.  The last time I was in the hospital, my mother sent me a batch of homemade Chex Mix; we made it a lot when I was growing up, and we developed our own recipe.

The other people in the house have been left to forage for themselves, as I haven't felt up to cooking.  Frozen foods and Chex mix are the order of the day.  I did rally for Thanksgiving, when we had an epic feast with eleven different dishes.  Then I plunged back into my depression when our hot water heater broke the day after Thanksgiving, leaving us with a few days of no showers and no dishwasher and  a nice $1,300 bill.  It felt like something terrible was happening to us every day.  My dentist told me to have expensive oral surgery, a recommendation I am ignoring, the day after the water heater trauma.

A few people suggested to me that we replace the hot water heater ourselves, but tellingly none of them live in San Francisco.  Our house is on a very steep hill, so our hot water heater has to be lifted up over five feet to its inconvenient location and also it has to be made earthquake-safe.  Also we don't own any vehicle that could possibly contain a hot water heater.  I felt ashamed, but in the end, we had to admit we wouldn't have done such a good job.  The professional owned a truck and had the right equipment to braze the gas lines and to drill into the exposed bedrock under our storage space.

In the background the Ferguson and New York grand juries failed miserably to see what was obvious to anyone else, which is that walking in a street or selling loose cigarettes are not capital offenses.  Some people very dear to me had horrible things happen to them as well, things I won't write about as they are not my traumas to tell.

We're walking on tiptoes here, afraid of what each day holds.