Thursday, May 31, 2012

It's A Phase

So today has not been a particularly good day.

The past couple of days I've been oddly positive about the situation with Charlie. Today I had to get up early and drive him to work because he lost his license yesterday. (In Missouri, refusing a breathalyzer means you lose your license for a year--but not until 15 days after your arrest.) He was in an unusually dark mood, certain he's going to prison, and was making a to-do list with that in mind: find somewhere to store the boat, dig up the garden, give the landlord notice he's breaking his lease, quit his job, and so on. I was brave and positive until I let him out of my car. Then I cried the whole way home.

Somehow when I turned my Little Giant ladder into scaffolding, I managed to ever so slightly bend the top part of one of its legs, so now the outer ladder won't fit over the inner ladder and, until that's fixed, I can't use the Little Giant for anything but scaffolding.  That wouldn't be so much of a huge problem, given that I have a ginormous amount of paint to scrape and it's easier to do on scaffolding, except that the ground's so uneven in my yard that I can't get the scaffolding positioned in such a way that it's not tippy without having it so far away from the wall that I can't reach it to scrape.  Seriously considering digging up my yard.  But not today.

I was making really good progress on the house today until I ran the scraper over a nailhead and took a big chunk out of the carbide blade.  I'd done the same thing a couple of days ago, so I couldn't just turn the blade around.  I went to get Charlie's carbide scraper and then remembered that his blade was in the same shape.  The local hardware store doesn't carry carbide blades (we have some on order, though) and the closest store that does is 26 miles away.  Once you chip up the carbide blade badly enough, you can't use it to scrape without gouging into the clapboards and trim on the house.  Argh.

While I was trying to figure out what to do about that, the mail lady stopped by and said that she and her husband had looked at this house several years ago.  "It has the cutest little bathroom with a clawfoot tub in it," she said.  Not anymore.  The Sucky Previous Owners just got a whole lot suckier.  I launched my scraper into the grass and went for a drive to scream and cry.

Then I thought, hey, I'm already having a bad day so why not call the funeral home and find out why they haven't put a headstone on my brother's grave yet.  The answer?  Because they're waiting for his funeral bill to be paid.  (I am not responsible for that; his estate is.)  And how much is the funeral bill?  Eleven thousand dollars.  Holy schidt.  Now it looks like Rodger might not have a headstone until sometime after the estate's closed in December.  And then I'll have to pay for it because I'm guessing after the medical bills, there won't be any money left. 

Tonight I have mandatory training at work.  Charlie has to check in with electronic monitoring by 10 pm at his Aunt Tiny's house.  I won't be home by then, Charlie doesn't have a driver's license, and Tiny doesn't drive after dark.  Still not sure how we're going to figure that one out.

So I had a good cry, and I screamed, and on a gravel road east of town I pulled the car over so I could kick the tires and throw rocks into a field.  That didn't really make me feel any better.

But this did:



I found Thom shortly after Sean died, and the shred of sanity I still have left after Sean's car wreck and all the other junk in my life since then is almost completely due to the wise and gentle Thom Rutledge.

Everything is a phase.

Everything.

Repeat as necessary.


4 comments:

  1. Here's a big hug.

    Does Charlie's boss know he might go to prison? If so, could Charlie talk to him now about the possibility of still having his job after he gets out?

    Has the attorney said anything about what the prosecutor is thinking about a sentence? Do you trust the attorney?

    Ladder: WTB to the rescue? He probably would be glad to keep busy. Hit the leg back into position with a hammer?

    Unless you're the executor yourself, an estate closing is an exercise in patience and trying to detach yourself. But it couldn't hurt to talk to the executor and see what's up with the bill. There's been enough time to know if there are funds to pay that, in which case it should be paid now.

    In the evening, someone should be through with work and able to drive Charlie. That's what friends are for... Some day you can do something for them and probably already have.

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  2. Thanks for the hug. I needed it.

    Charlie's boss knows. He said if he gets 120 days in prison, he'll hold his job open for him. Charlie's worked there like 7 years and his boss considers him one of his best workers.

    I'm not happy with the attorney; however, Tiny is and she's paying for him. He hasn't talked to Charlie at all since the arraignment, and then he told him he didn't have time to talk to him. Charlie needs to make an appointment.

    Tomorrow I'll ask WTB for help with the ladder. He's good at that sort of thing. Incidentally, he's retiring in like 45 days so he'll be looking for stuff to do. And, he has his own stress to deal with.

    I'm not the executor; my nephew Jon is. I called him and he didn't call me back. Grr.

    Still trying to figure out the check-in thing, but I'm hoping his oldest daughter (she's 18) can help us out. I'll pay her back by babysitting her cute little 2-year-old daughter sometime.

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  3. Wow. Hang in there! I know how tough it is but yes, it's all just a phase. And the one thing I've learned is that once you get clear of the bad sh*t, you REALLY learn to appreciate what's good in your life. (Makes it all the sweeter.)

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  4. Really sorry to hear about all this. Sounds pretty heavy & awful just all around. I REALLY hope the sky breaks and sun comes streaming in on you soon.

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