I so shouldn’t be taking the time to write this right now. I have about 7,000 words left to “win” NaNoWriMo, and only three days to do it. I’m not terribly worried though, as my story finally seems to be taking shape and the words are coming more easily as a result. I know, I know, if my story is just now taking shape, what the heck are the first 30,000 about? This is me, after all, so it’s probably safe to say: back story.
I meant to do a “what I’m thankful for” post, but that didn’t happen due to busyness and grumpiness. I believe, however, I have figured out the source of my grumpiness, other than the fact that the holidays are upon us with no hope whatsoever of getting our son home. Actually, I’ve been in the state of mind where I don’t even like to call him our son because, until he gets on American soil, I just don’t think I’ll believe it’s really going to happen. Right now he is just an extremely cute little boy whose picture is framed and on the library table alongside the pictures of my actual children. I have been trying to figure out how to break it to the kids when we find out that Vietnam adoption are, indeed, shutting down before we can get him home, or something else goes terribly wrong and we find out he will not, in fact, become part of our family. I have a little snow suit that I bought for him a while back in a moment of weakness, and am now trying to find someone to give it to. Even if Quinn does come home, he’ll have outgrown it by then. According to the last update we got, he’s nearly outgrown it already.
See, told you I’ve been grumpy. Or depressed. Or whatever you want to call it. And could we just banish Elvis and “Blue Christmas” from the radio for one holiday season? Just one? Though the Senor Pig version I heard the other day was mildly humorous.
Anyway, I’m chalking my bad mood up to a virus. The laryngitis fairy has not yet left our family. She smacked Tank Boy upside the head right before Thanksgiving, though not very forcefully. Sure, he couldn’t yell for a day or two, but boy could he whine! The fever and the cough only lasted about two days, but the residual runny nose and incessant whine is still with us. Now I’m getting it. No fever so far, just tired and achy and mild hoarseness (I’m sure my kids are praying that the laryngitis fairy will hit me hard). So, knowing me, and knowing that I tend towards grumpiness when I’m sick, there you go. I blame it all on the virus.
Here is a quick rundown of the other major happenings that you really could probably care less about:
* The vacuum cleaner died. Just died. No choking, sputtering, grinding noises, just nothing. It is the motor. It is dead. I am thankful that it waited until after we had the houseful of people over for Thanksgiving to do this. I am thankful that McH got the extended warranty when he bought in 4.5 years ago. I am not thankful that it has been four or five days since I have been able to vacuum the St. Bernard hair out of my house. It is time to bring the shop vac up from the basement. It is past time, actually. I was just holding out for that mid-week timeframe they gave us for getting the vac back. It is now officially mid-week and they are still officially waiting for the part they officially need to fix it.
* The new t.v. is a dud. Yep, I braved Black Friday to spend way too much money on a totally unnecessary appliance, and it doesn’t work right. It is the lowest “def” television I have ever seen, despite the fact that it is clearly marked “hi-def”. McH watched it for two days before I finally took a gander at it and said, “What the heck is up with that crappy picture?” He was so excited to just have a big, flat, television that he hadn’t noticed. Or he didn’t want to say anything for fear I’d take his big, flat television back. Well, I haven’t taken it back — yet. I need to call the store today to see if the new shipment has come in so that I can take it back and exchange it. When we called the manufacturer to see if we were just so stupid that we didn’t know how to plug the t.v. in the right way for a good picture, we were informed that several truckloads of bad televisions were inadvertently shipped out. See, this is just our luck. When I called the retailer to explain the situation to them, Joe Media Center Guy said, “Well, we don’t have any more, so I guess you can just return it.” Ummm . . . say it with me now, “NO!”
I ever so kindly explained to him that there was no way I would get a replacement television of that type for that price unless I was willing to wait until next year, therefore I expected some type of exchange deal, not a return deal. He forwarded me on to his very friendly, very cooperative manager who informed me a new shipment would be arriving this week. Because, apparently, Joe Media Center Guy is too clueless to know this for himself. Because, you know, major places of retail don’t often get new shipments of merchandise in on a regular basis? Whatever.
See? Grumpy. Let’s see, what else . . .
Oh yes, I have to read Dante’s Inferno by Friday. I think I’m on canto nine or ten. There are like thirty-three. I can’t wait to find out what goes on in the grumpy circle of hell. Wait, maybe I’m already there.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt is thankful for you.