I’ve written about the “chaos” that’s going on at the condo and it continues. It’s not the rowdy partying that you may expect. Nor is Jean the workoutÂ drill sergeant that many of you have come to know and love. True, when she’s at the fitness center or on a bike ride or on a run, she’s relentless, but even the energizer bunny needs some down time. You also know that I may be “ever so slightly” obsessive compulsive. I’m the first to admit it. But I’m willing to bet that most of you would be going crazy by now if you had to live in the conditions that I do.
First of all, it’s the garage parking. Jean parks on the left and I park on the right. You probably already know that if you’ve ever been at the condo. When you look at the garage wall on her side, it looks like a family of woodpeckers has moved in. There are pock marks all over the place! She claims it’s because she has to park too close to the garage wall so she can leave enough room for me to get in and out of my car. Well, this morning I went out to get in my car and I could barely fit between hers and mine, and with the bad weather and the salt all over everything, I’ve ruined more than one set of clothes. So, being the numbers geek that I am, I got out the tape measure. Sure, Jean was on her side of the center line, but there was 17 inches between the cars. You’ve all seen my butt and it probably is larger than 17 inches, so getting in the car was a struggle. I measured her side to the wallÂ and it was 39 inches. She has enough room to do a handspring getting in and she still hits the wall with her carÂ door? What am I to do?
Of course, that’s not all. We haven’t lived in a place with so many doors that get opened and closed every day since we’ve been married. The front closet where we keep our coats; the pantry door where we keep most of our food; the hallway closet where we keep the towels and linens. Jean swings them shut and walks away. Everyone knows from eighth grade science class that when there isn’t a vent for the air to escape, the door won’t close all the way. The air pushes against the door while it’s trying to equalize the pressure. It’s a good thing I’m retired and have the time to go around and close the doors behind her.
If you’re still not horrified, here’s the clincher. Jean spent quite a bit of time trying to find a wreath for the front of the house for the Christmas Season. She finally found one, decorated it with lights, and put it up on the front of the condo. Since there are two windows there, I assumed she would center it on the windows, which she did. A few days later we had some very windy days. One of the days she laughed and said “Look at how the wreath is blowing back and forth”. Now that the wind has stopped, the wreath is off center and she won’t fix it. We all know that when things are a little off center, the world is out of balance and that’s not a good thing. I’ve gone out and centered the wreath back up so bad things don’t happen. I took pictures of the mess, butÂ they’re too gruesome to send over the internet.
And that’s why I drink!!
Just (Working To Keep My Sanity, Such As It Is) Jack