When it rains, it pours.

I LOVE rain. It’s relaxing, comforting and inspirational to me.

Rain on Sunday is even better. Thunder, lightening and everything else on a day when you have nothing else to do is about the best feeling you can get.

However, my love for real rain differs from metaphorical rain.

You know, the life kind of rain. As in bad news, bad luck, overall just bad. The past week(ish) has been a time of life rain.

I’m actually pretty adept to handling crisis situations. I react calmly, logically, rationally. Did someone just saw their arm off? I can help!

It’s the small stuff that seems to get me all bent out of shape. Small…super small…as in fleas. (Literally) overnight my apartment became an infestation of the nasty little critters. With indoor cats, I’m not sure how or when they started making their home my home, but it was bad. Over the past couple of weeks I took the normal precautions when I noticed my cats scratching a little more than normal. Flea baths and sheets washed, house cleaned, I felt pretty good about the situation clearing up.

Little did I know, the peak of my infestation was about to reign its ugly head.

On Thursday I got a phone call. It was my mom and she was calling me after her colonscopy appointment. She was whimpering as she told me they found something during her procedure and it doesn’t look good. She used the word “cancer” but said they won’t really know until the biopsy comes back. My crisis situation self kicked in, and I comforted her, made her laugh and told her we shouldn’t say words like cancer until the doctor does.

That evening after the “cancer” phone call, my apartment became inhabitable. I was mortified. I grabbed my cats, a few things, and headed over to Mr. M’s. We checked the cats, they were fine since I was keeping them under control. Mr. M and I headed to Wal-Mart to gather flea killing supplies.

The fleas are on their way out, but not dead yet. 9 flea bombs, and 3 deep cleanings later, I am almost rid of the little bastards.

Now I must wait and see. Wait for my mom’s results. Wait for the fleas to all die. Wait for rain to stop pouring.

Yours feeling impatient,



2 thoughts on “When it rains, it pours.

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