Every thing is working now, except me.
My kitchen faucet said “Farewell” two weeks ago, and it took two weeks for the plumber to charge me $400.00. I couldn’t use the garbage disposal, so I’m hoping it still works. Washing dinner dishes in the bathroom was kinda fun, like being on a camping trip. The toaster still works as long as you’re willing to watch paint dry. My coffee machine stopped providing inviting morning caffeine scents, so the Mr. was replaced with a new Mr. Those wonderful scents resumed.
The wall mounted grandfather clock that I’ve had for over twenty years needed a tuneup. Sadly, I was without his quarterly sounds for a quarter of a year. “My repair man has a day job,” said the owner which ended that relationship. The clock is working again as long as I tuneup it up myself each week.
Relationship. We all love that word. It means connection, investment and a working partnership that becomes a comfortable, predictable routine. “Do your job, and we’ll be happy,” says me in my quiet apartment. Owen, my cat, wasn’t doing his job. He was working at being a happy cat until peeing became a problem. (For me, a $1,400.00 problem.) He approaches me one night and yells out what humans would translate as, “Do something!” I did, and now he’s proficient at the art of relieving himself.
Pens that stop working, I don’t mind. I’ve got lots of them. Setting light timers to work when I want them to has always been a hassle with tiny buttons that either go up or down to turn on or off. Very frustrating twice a year until the beauty of Wifi allowed me to buy Alexia controlled lights. All the lights now obey hers and my commands. (My stupid timers are now available on eBay for those who still watch black and white television.) Speaking of Wifi, I tried Apple TV hoping it would work but I tired of waiting and watching its pizza sign spin and spin right as the criminal was about to be killed.
Cable companies love me since they’ve all worked for me. Even satellite worked for me for a short time. I suspect I have an AT&T record – nine technicians in one month working for me. One of them softly told me just to cancel the service, “It’s just not gonna work for you.” With Spectrum’s strong Wifi, I have a good working relationship with Netflix, HBO, and Showtime for my evening enjoyment.
My fifteen-year-old desktop computer valiantly worked for me until turning it on now sounds like my stomach in the morning. (How do you grieve an excellent, reliable relationship with a machine?!) It still tries but can’t seem to achieve working capability. (Make it now a coffee table so it can continue working?)
I’m not a pessimist, but I swear my water heater will no longer be working, but it is. I wait for the cold to continue but it doesn’t. But I’m still not working. My days stay cold, sometimes lukewarm, but the heat eludes me.
My two cats are sound asleep now, so I guess they’re working in their own way. They wonder why I’m home so much since they’re accustomed to eight hours of freedom. I assure them that it’s okay yet I’m still not working, but the things around me seem to be working quite well.
My new book is “Chiseled Grace,” available at Amazon.com