I returned to work on August 1st. While things are going unexpectedly well while I'm there, yesterday I left the house at 6:45am. I returned home at 12:30am this morning. Typical Friday. Monday - Thursday I leave at the same time and get home a lot earlier. Like around 8:00pm. Adds up to about 70 hours a week.
This morning, we slept in till 7:00am, had breakfast, showered, and headed to Fallon's dance class at Rhythm Dance Center. On the way, I realize, we missed the opportunity buy her dance shoes last week so she'll be barefoot for tap and ballet. *sigh*
Afterwards, we headed over to Target to spend a gift card I received from my wonderful mother for my birthday on a gift for a little girl who turned one not long ago. I also picked up some toilet bowl cleaner and some candy for Halloween so that we're not empty handed when the trick or treaters come by this year. I realize that's probably not the kind of thing my mother intended for me to buy with the gift card, but we're a little low on funds and I'd feel dumb spending money on things I want when we're kinda struggling to get the things we need. I did find a cute pair of boots that I liked for $35 that I'll get one day. Maybe next year.
Our refrigerator died early this summer. $2,000 for the one I'd want from Lowe's. Rather than replace it, we just use the one in the basement.
Then...our air conditioner died. Likely $5,000 for a good unit. Rather than replace it, we just turn it on full blast at night to get the house down to a frosty 75 degrees and turn it off during the day (our power bill has gone from $400 to $300 a month doing that). We plan all our outings for daytime so that we're enjoying the air conditioning of others. Thank you public library, WalMart, Emmanuel's mom, etc.
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| The gauge on top says the actual temperature. The one on the bottom is the "desired" temperature. |
Last month our water consumption "tripled" and after the county inspected the problem, they concluded the problem is on our end. A few weeks ago, Emmanuel learned that his hours are now cut in half, which means his paychecks will be cut in half and he'll lose his benefits (like vacation time, retirement contributions).
Today we get home and my garage door won't open. Upon further inspection, I learned that the cable and spring that are in charge of lifting the door snapped while we were away. While I've been adamantly trying to maintain a positive attitude and outlook amidst my long hours, our tight budget, and the inconveniences of getting creative, this was the final straw.
I am now officially bitter. Like, ready to pack up all our stuff and move into sub-standard housing letting this place foreclose bitter. Like, ready to turn off the cable, phones, and hand at least one car over to Carmax bitter. Maybe both cars.
Is this what home ownership really is? A consistent bracing of oneself for the next major piece to fail? A consistent prayer that when the roof caves in, the toilet falls through the floor, the circuit box blows up....that we're not home when it happens? A constant test of creativity and survival? Here I thought it was supposed to be a source of pride: "We are home-owners!" Seems, however, to be more of a proclamation of idiocy. I miss apartment living when my biggest stress was the need to have a can of roach spray in every room.
Luckily, we do have friends. Good ones. The Jones' came by this evening and lent the expertise of Mr. Jones to assist Mr. Almeda with repairing the garage door. Mrs. Jones and I were able to have some good conversation, and the little 'uns were able to burn off unmeasurable energy emptying every nook and cranny of storage space in Fallon's room so that all that she has could be proudly displayed on the floor.
At least when things fail, we have people we can count on. Thanks Jones family.
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