For a temporary moment, it threw everything out of whack.
Our 23 year-old intended housesitter has a stress fracture, is in a boot, cannot work or drive; i.e., we are temporarily screwed, almost like a "sympathy injury" with my broken metacarsels.
We contemplate making a plea to the entire place where he works. I am crying now - who is going to come in here and take care of the pig? And not have parties with kleptos who steal stuff?
"Can you call the show? Since we are so close to leaving, maybe... ?"
"They don't return my calls. One even defriended me. When I sent a couple of hellos on inbox she actually asked if I had a question as if I wanted her autograph."
The pig can't stay with my family with all of their turmoil. Shook my head and swallowed hard, the call has to go through.
When I tell the one friendly fellow in the production office about our cross country excursion, he blurts, "That's so cool!" and for the first time I could hear sincerity instead of patronizing skepticism in his voice. In this business to say it is rare would be an understatement.
I ask how the cast and crew are doing, and I finally confess, "I haven't been able to watch any of the new shows," as I feel my voice breaking. "But please tell everyone I said Hello and congratulations."
... and I can only hope there are cheers and not jeers when my name is mentioned after he hangs up the phone.
Monkey wrenches are part of the journey my love. You just pick them up and figure out how to put them to good use. A colleague at work from Russia, who loves chihuahuas, has agreed to stay at our home. Nice guy who will take care of the pig as if he is his own. So don't cry, give thanks for the universe providing. Two days and we shove off for trails, camp sites, cycling, soaking, and altitude.
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