When It Rains...

I woke up this morning after 3 hours of sleep to rain pouring into the house. Literally. Right over an electrical connection and next to the big, nearly-flat-screen tv. I moved the electronic equipment I could and was lucky enough not to get electrocuted, since as I said, I'd had 3 hours of sleep and was not exactly alert or thinking clearly. Luckily, the equipment in question was wet from splatter (like, really wet), but not sitting in water, and not apparently wet enough to shock me, which is happy. Then I grabbed a towel and stuffed it as best I could into the leak area, and went to wake up TB.

The second I opened the door, I could hear and smell water. I stepped out of the hallway and into the kitchen and discovered I was standing in a huge pool of water and that a huge section of roof was leaking. I threw a towel into the pool and shoved a bin under the leak to catch most of the waterfall and then woke TB up, who had to figure out where the water was getting in on the outside and then how to stop it coming in on the inside. (I mopped it up while he was doing that.) He never did find either place, but he did manage to stop the ceiling leak, and there are towels stuck in the wall leak, and a bucket underneath it, and please God, don't let the rain frigging torrentially downpour again tonight, because we won't be able to stop it.

I have to leave tomorrow for Texas, and I do not want to go. I do not want to go to my father's funeral. I do not want to scatter his ashes. I do not want to deal with the memories I will have to face. I do not want to deal with the family bs I will have to contend with, not the least of which is my brother Tom irately and asshattedly refusing to let my stepmother (ex-stepmother) attend the service. I have to buy clothing for the funeral, because at 160 pounds, NONE of my funeral-appropriate clothing fits any longer. I washed my jeans and because the air is 100% water right now, they refuse to dry. I can't throw them in the drier, or they won't fit. The fucking airlines will probably lose at least one of my bags, anyway, since almost every time I check a bag, it goes missing or someone steals something out of it. I do not want to fly. I do not want to stay with my brother or my mother. I do not want to be stuck without a car for 2 entire weeks (plus 2 days).

I have about $250 left in my checking account, and after 3 weeks have still not been able to talk to a fucking human being at EDD to ask the ONE question I need to ask in order to file for an extension. One fucking question. That's it. What is my base period. That's it. What is my base period? Is it the original base period I filed with, or does it change to the base period 18 months from NOW? I have bills I need to pay, and I can't because I don't have enough money, and I don't know when I'll have any money, because fucking EDD won't answer the motherfucking phone. Great time for TB to have to shell out $350 for a plane ticket, plus more money to feed me while I'm in Texas, as well as to buy funeral-appropriate clothing. His salary has been drastically slashed, and he has no work anyway, so times aren't any better for him, what with having a mortgage to pay.

Bygones to those of you among the non-cussing. I realize I shouldn't say the mf word, but really, I can't be any more stressed out than I am right now, so please just deal.

The frigging DVR is possessed. It recorded at irregular times all week, so I missed the last 5 minutes of every single program it recorded. It was set to tape on the hour for everything, but for some fucked up reason, it started and ended 6 minutes before the hour for everything it taped. Until tonight, that is, when it just decided not to tape anything. Even if I had the show on and pushed record, it would say it was recording, but nothing happened. It also said it taped stuff that had come on before I noticed it wasn't taping, but those shows it said it taped are not in the recordings list and can't be viewed if it did. Then it went completely haywire and while I was watching the last show of the night, from 10-11, it kept turning itself off or searching for signal or downloading the program guide, over and over again. I saw nothing of that show, either. I don't know about you people, but when I'm living on the frigging edge, I need my damn television. TV keeps me sane. TV is escape. I love television. When I was a kid, the only time my parents shut the hell up and quit screaming at each other or us or hitting anyone was at the movies or during a tv show they liked. Nobody hit or yelled at anybody during the Waltons or Bonanza or Happy Days, damn it. TV is safety and happiness and all things good and wonderful in the entire world. I frigging love tv, and I need it to function properly. More than anything in the world, I need my frigging television. So for it to be major malfunction right now, of all fucking times in my life, is NOT okay. I'm just saying.

Dear California Politicians:
PASS THE FUCKING BUDGET SO I CAN HAVE MY UNEMPLOYMENT BENEFITS AND SO CAN CALLI'S HUBBY.

My benefits were supposed to automatically roll into an extension. They did not.

I need to pack.

I also need to empty all my disks for my camera, forward some of my mail so I have access to certain information while I'm gone, and get my electronic boarding pass. I'd really like it if my frigging jeans would dry.

I will probably forget something I really need to have, like the right shoes or Pete.

It just started raining again, and not lightly, either. Any bets on how long before rain starts pouring out of the wall directly in front of me?

:(
kd