I had a flood in my basement a few weeks ago.
Buckets and torrents and geysers of rain...pooched sump pump. Do the math.
Since then the entire basement level has been gutted, loud industrial sized blowers and dehumidifiers were running constantly for more than two weeks to remove the moisture, and worse yet (yes, even worse than dealing with the insurance company)...I’ve had to live in a construction zone as the contractors all tramp in and out of my house on a daily basis—It also doesn’t help that the chaos has now spread to the next level of the house as my husband has found himself a Spring Break “project”.
I don’t handle chaos well. I like to be in control.
At work, I’m known as the File Nazi. Nobody gets close to one of my files without a complete fingerprinting and a fully executed full and final release indemnifying me for any and all loss or damage—Especially not the purple files.
At home, I am also the all-powerful, all-knowing, all-organized Queen and High Priestess of my domain. Everyone knows that the dishes go in the cupboard a particular way. They know that laundry gets folded a particular way. That there is a particular step-by-step process regarding the cleaning of the house on Saturday mornings. They know and respect these universal truths...or they run for their lives.
This situation caused by flood has ballooned into something I’m not sure I can quite handle. It has frazzled me. I hate it with a passion. We worked so hard to finish that basement just the way we like it. Now it’s back down to the concrete floor and studded walls, and I feel resentful. I don’t know who I should be resentful of, but the sentiment is there.
I also hate that my son can’t play in the basement and instead, his toys are scattered on my office floor (urgh). I hate that I can’t hang my clothes to dry on the line in the basement and instead, a rack has been parked in my office (double urgh). It bothers me that insurance paperwork and contractor quotes are strewn all over my kitchen counter. I know these things will all get back to normal with time and a little bit of extra effort from all of us, but in the meantime...
There you go. I’m a mess.
What are the things that really get to you?