Convergence

The first part of the story begins with the phrase, "Mitch was bored...", and ends with a baseball-shaped hole in the ceiling. A glass half-full approach would be to be thankful that he ONLY put a hole in the ceiling, and not through our new $900.00 television set, which sits just feet from where he was throwing the baseball that made the hole in my ceiling. But then I'm not really a glass half-full kind of gal. When Dan sees the hole, I don't think he'll be thinking much about glasses either.

The next part of the story involves our '99 Suburban, a $400.00 tune-up on Wednesday, and a nerve-wracking, migraine-inducing commute through the canyon on Thursday, wondering if the transmission was going to get me home or leave me stranded at the top of Sardine Canyon with no cell phone service. Why do they call it Sardine Canyon anyway? The point being, however, that we had a functional car for ONE DAY. ONE DAY.

The last part of the story begins with a root canal appointment that was scheduled for tomorrow, and got bumped up to this morning. It ends with my calorie-addicted brain telling me that somehow, because of suffering through a root canal, I had earned the right to binge on Oreos.

The parts all come together when I am driving down the canyon, my tooth has begun to throb, and I have a terrible stomach ache from too many Oreos. The phone rings. It is Mitch, informing me of what he has just done to my ceiling. As I am talking to him, I feel the car losing power. I push on the gas, and the engine revs like crazy, but we aren't really going anywhere, and you did what to the ceiling, and great I forgot my ibuprofen, and I really think I might barf.

It was a perfect storm.