My head is pounding today.

It's probably due to the FIRE I had last night.
The smoke inhalation got to me, big time.

The oven caught on fire.
The oven that I mentioned, upon completing my move-in-condition evaluation, needed to be serviced since the door pops open all the time.

You already know that I'm about to tell you that the door wouldn't stay closed which means the fire couldn't be suffocated which led to four fire trucks, a massive fan, thick black smoke, my left arm getting beat up from where Rosie went all bucking bronco on me while I held her outside in the creepy strobes of emergency vehicle lights, and of course.... tears.

And now my chest and head are killing me.

So I call the place, right?
And they're like, "Oh yeah. Did anyone call you about that fire yet?"
"Well, they're really busy."
"Ummm. Okay."
"So can they come by today?"
"Well, what time do you think?"
"I dunno. They're really busy."
"Well, can they call me when they're on their way?"
"Ummmm. Probably not. What time can you be there? What about the dog? We need to take a look at the oven. those are older units."
Now, I've been nothing but nice.
Of course there have been the usual frustrations of moving in and hassles of setting things working and stuff.
But I lost my freaking patience.
I felt like I was being the problem here when in reality, the oven obviously is a safety issue since there was a FUCKING FIRE last night.

I broadened my voice and said, "I work on the EAST side. I CAN'T get there in a hurry. I NEED for them to give me a call when they are on their way over there."
"I'll see if they can do that."
"I would think that if they have a cell phone, they can give me a call and I can give them the run-down on the dog."
"Well, I'll check... they're really busy today."
"Okay, can you be reached at this number?"

Normally, everything is all good.
But there's this one lady there who's answer is ALWAYS: "I can't because that's not the way they do things."

For years, I've been told that the above response is actually not a valid answer. If someone calls you and asks for something reasonable, or asks a question about why you're doing something, you really need to have an actual answer even if it's the wrong answer.

Credibility, folks.

So for this woman to tell me that maintenance can't give me call when they're on their way so that I can speak to them directly to let them know what happened and also to let them know that Rosie is in my room but that she's going to lose her shit with barking.... for to tell me that they can't call because that's not the way they do things is ludicrous and made me lose my patience in the heavy chest and thick head of smoke that I'm working with today.

I TOLD you the oven needed attention - in writing.
You didn't get to it.
Now you can't have maintenance call me when they're on their way?
Because that's not how they do things?

My anger is great.

And I have to go to the dentist at 2.
And I had a peel this morning and she decided to switch it up to treat the break-out I'm having that's totally connected to the non-stop month of being placed on a team, having my first game, being in my first fire, moving, not having fucking furniture, learning to commute, being pathetically broke from moving and having some unexpected expenses from some of the initial things I needed to skate in a game so suddenly.
I would have been cool for money had I not run up to the sporting goods store last Thursday and found out the hard way that:
1. AAA is awesome.
2. Alternators are NOT awesome. This different peel is hurting my face. Of course, the up-side of that is that I can blame it on the fire and nobody but the Internet will know that I'm having "work" done.

I'm surprised that I'm not hiding under the covers yet but I'm really close, to be honest.

I'm going to have to cut Consort lose... I can't deal with it.
It's not fun enough to be a diversion and it's not serious at all to be a boon.
I'm not sure how to do this.
He wanted to come over to help make out last night.... help with what?
Looking at the sad little total in my checkbook register?
Doing dishes that I had just gotten arranged in a way that I like?
Smelling the things that were in closets in rooms with shut doors and trying to determine if I was going to be spending $40 or so doing laundry?

There wasn't anything to help with and I didn't have the maturity to hear the things that someone who's too young to have ever had an actual, unsheltered hard time say in an effort to be comforting:
"Ohhhhh. Let me hold you. It'll be okay. It's just some smoke. It's okay. It's over now."

I was on the phone with Jesus when it happened so I ignored my Consort's text messages and called Jesus.

And yeah, I was comforted by reality:
"Dude that sucks so bad. Now you gotta deal with all of the mess - suuuuuuuuck. I'm glad you didn't burn up into a crispy Star Burger but that sucks, man. You gonna call your landlord? Probably need them to look at that stove. I had an oven fire once and I shut off the oven and closed the door and it went out.
Oh well, you little doggy's alright?"

It's not over.
It's only begun.
I've got smoke inhalation issues - not major ones but it'll be a couple of days that are going to include practice days for me.
Whatever cash I had left from the unexpected alternator and the rollerderby (both of which joined hands to wipe out my extra money and then some) is now going to be spent on laundering and cleaning and then I leave to go to the Southeast and spend a week with my mom.

So you see, I can't handle a Consort anymore.
It's too bad that I'm actually a really nice person and want to find the exact right thing to say so he won't get upset.

And there's the fact that I am in love with Casa Video guy. I returned some movies last night and when I came in, he straightened up and smiled really big and said hi. He started to move over to the drop box but I was only dropping off so I flashed the dimple and back out of the door.
When I got in my car, I told him that I loved him.

I bet Casa Video guy would have cried WITH me.
I KNOW he would not have inadvertently patronized me by offering things that only make sense to people who've not yet had to deal with real life at the bottom of the Middle Class.

I can't seem to find a good ending to this.
I'm going to the dentist now.

God-knows what could happen there given the rest of the things that have happened lately.

arizonasarah at 11:57 a.m.

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