Actually don't. Look at me, I mean. I don't have any make up on.
But still. Know that I was brave tonight. And I mostly hated every single second of it.
After work, and after dinner with a friend, and after picking up some groceries, all I had on my mind on this miserable, horribly wet, stormy evening was a soak in a bathtub. So I pointed my truck east and headed up to the lake.
(I was having an emotional day. Some things weren't going as I had hoped, so I had a little pity party during my lunch break and willed myself not to cry. I did OK. Mostly I just ranted to God.
Disappointed with myself, I headed back to my office, determined not to dwell on things I have no control over. Half an hour later I got a message from reception, "Margret is here with a snack for you. If you don't come quick, it'll be gone."
As I turned the corner, coming down the centre, glass-encased stair-well, I saw Marg sitting on the bench, and in her lap was this:
(It's paska, by the way.)
"I don't know what I'm doing here," she apologized. "Here, in this high security building, 'n all ..."
Then she continued, "But the Lord laid you on my heart, so I baked for you."
I gave her a hug, and invited her up to my office.
"Is something going on with you? Why would God nudge me, about you, today?"
I closed my office door and we talked. And teared up. And maybe cried a little bit.
And then we both felt better. )
So, as I was saying, I had an emotional day and the lake was calling me.
I arrived well after dark, and the rainfall was torrential. I grabbed my backpack, purse, laptop and cooler and by the time I got to the bottom step, I was soaked.
Plus, it was at the bottom step that I realized the house was buzzing.
So I climbed up the rest of the stairs and the buzzing got louder. I unlocked the front door, went inside, and the noise was louder still. I did a quick check of the main floor, then went upstairs. The noise was definitely coming from the basement.
Of course it was.
I hate the basement.
I opened up the back sliding door and walked around the deck.
It was pitch black out there. And windy. And raining. And I didn't want to go down to that basement by myself.
I wanted to call someone.
Someone who loves me.
Someone who'd come and look after this for me.
Second time in one day I was feeling sorry for myself.
I am such a loser.
I made a phone call. I was told to just deal with it. So I pressed 'end' to hang up, then clicked on my flashlight app (best app ever) and said out loud, over and over again, as walked around the back yard, then ducked under this, and climbed over that, and pushed this and pulled that, entering the dark, unlit basement, "Me again, God. Let there be no rodents or monsters in here. No rodents or monsters. God. No rodents and monsters...."
The light switch is on the far end, so I manoeuvred around piles of lumber, stacks of chairs, yard tools and broken toys to find the hidden light switch under the ceiling beam. "God, please no rodents or monsters. Or spiders. No rodents or monsters..."
I walked towards the thingy on the wall that was screaming at me. It was the septic pump. And the deafening noise was the alarm, indicating that something was seriously wrong. I found the switch that turned off the annoying racket, and continued my mantra, "God, no rodents. No monsters. No rodents. No monsters... and please no sewage waste seeping up through the drain..."
I took note of the phone number on the device, then back tracked out of the basement - first to turn off the lights, then around all the crap stored on the floor, then out through a hidden door, and over this and under that, all the while talking to God about monsters and rodents.
And then I was back in the house.
All I wanted was a bath.
However, with the septic pump not working, that's out of the question.
Three things I'm thankful for:
1.While I'm not a fan of actually being in it, I love the sound of rain falling when I'm all cuddled up in bed.
2. Also, the sound of crickets and frogs through my open window is pretty awesome too.
3. As is the sound of the creek.