Everything was weird today. I couldn’t quite seem to get my act together early enough to do what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it. It went downhill from there. Nothing near disaster level, but bad enough that it threw me for a loop.
Little Dude came home from school with his report card. He’s not failing anything, but he’s certainly not doing as well as I’d hoped. His three easiest classes are the three classes in which he has the lowest grades (C). There was also an A+, and two Bs, but those three Cs didn’t sit well with me, especially when I know how much he loves those classes. He says those grades are low because that was during the time I had surgery and was recovering and, well, he was worried. I called B.S. and we discussed the options available to him for improving those grades. I signed the report card, wrote a note to the teacher, and later talked with the ex. We agreed to encourage LD to stay after school M-Th to get extra help. He usually waits that extra hour anyway because his walking home buddy takes advantage of the after school tutoring. So, LD will now join him. If the grades don’t improve this quarter, things and “events” start becoming mere dreams again.
The other big thing that I discovered today is that my mom’s house is currently being torn apart. For the last few years, my mom has always complained about hearing skittering or something in the walls or a weird smell during cold weather. The Homeowners Association said it was nothing. My mom insisted it was rats. Guess what? It was rats. Lots of them. Inside her walls. There was drywall soaked with rat urine, carcasses everywhere, and of course, an overwhelming stench when the men broke through the wall. When they left today, they didn’t even bother to cover the holes they made in the walls, despite the fact that we’re dropping into the 30s at night and those open holes not only allow a really strong breeze to flow into the house, but what about the rats? HELLO! My sister and brother-in-law boarded up all the holes as best they could and my mom is now camping out in the little spare room. I worry about her.
I keep thinking, no wonder she keeps getting sick all the time. All those respiratory infections could be linked directly to the rat situation. I think we’re going to have her tested for a variety of things. I made her promise to call the pulmonary specialist tomorrow.
I feel so badly that I have no room or a bed to offer her here. My sister doesn’t have room because my daughter (who’s into week #2 back at school — yay!) can’t give up her bed as she’s still having a rough go of it while trying to sleep. And my mom can’t sleep on the daybed. My sis and b-i-l offered to haul my mom’s bed over there, but she turned them down. I wish she’d let them do that. I really think that house is bad for her health. Maybe I’ll call my sister later and get her to talk my mom into the move.
Before we moved into this apartment, when our water heater and subsequently the furnace were out in the former abode, when we couldn’t take a shower, not just because we had no hot water but also because the shower and tub were leaking into the dining room — that was hell. It was freezing at night and we were miserable. Then they ripped out our floors and half the walls downstairs and it was even colder. I went to my mom’s a couple times to shower and thaw out. Now I can’t even offer her a bed. I hate that.
Then there was my having to reschedule my physical therapy evaluation. Tomorrow was to be the big day. I discovered the roommate had an appointment scheduled at the same time I did. In the opposite direction. Crap on a cracker! I won’t go in for the eval until next week now and my pool therapy won’t start until the following week. It’s not the worst thing in the world, but it definitely put crimp in my plans. Oh well. The good news is that I’ll be starting P.T. and this extra buffer gives me time to see if the insurance company will set up transportation for me (it’s about 15 miles to the pool they use). If I go to pool therapy three times a week, I’ll be going for four weeks. If I only go two times a week, it’s eight weeks. Then I’ll start the rest of my P.T. after that (closer to home, too). Slow but steady, right? Right. Anyhow, everything was rescheduled without a hassle and it is what it is.
And there you have it.
Other than that, it was a banner day. (insert eye rolling here)