Sometimes the demands of the day.....even if they are nothing out of the ordinary, nothing earth shaking, nothing traumatic........sometimes it just gets to be too much.
Last week I had one of those days.
We were moving from one timeshare about 8 miles south to a second timeshare. I spent Friday packing our belongings into boxes and suitcases and bags.
My Honey played computer solitaire, as usual.
I loaded the Expedition. Things were snug. My Honey made some remarks about my packing skills...we weren't moving across the country for heavens' sake, just down the road!
We checked out and looked to fill the 3 hours before we could check into our other villa.
So we picked up prescriptions at Walgreens.
Bought a few groceries at Krogers off-island.
Did a walkabout in World Market and Pier One.
Picked out a movie at Blockbuster.
Did a drive-by of the villa to see if by chance it was ready. The door was open and the cleaning crew was working away.
Returned to a church sidewalk sale we had passed on the way in. Found a Gap sweater and capri pants for one of my granddaughters - 50 cents. My Honey found cookies - $1
Stopped at the Harris Teeter to pick up the milk we couldn't have bought earlier. Also found thin crust pizza 2 for 1 so bought that too. Now the car was really full.
Met the cleaning crew at the front door...all was ready! All new tile floors downstairs and new carpet on the stairs and second floor! New drapes! Fresh paint!
Everything was lovely!
So I start to unpack the Expedition. My Honey helps and I try to "arrange" what he will carry with his one good arm and hand so that it is manageable and not breakable should he lose his grip. This exercise is always a little tense since he believes he can carry anything.
We get everything inside and he sets up his computer to play solitaire.
Now this kitchen has a pantry that will hold everything we bring and more. It has five 6-foot long shelves on metal brackets behind two bifold doors. I have unpacked almost all of our stuff when CRASH THUD BANG....the shelf second from the top collapses, spilling its contents over me and onto the floor! I instinctively reach up and hold onto the shelf, trying to balance it and prevent any further damage. It is wedged in tightly. I cannot remove it from the pantry. I cannot replace it since the brackets have all fallen. I can barely hold onto it!
My Honey, sitting ten feet away from me, continues to play solitaire.
I could use a little help here!!!! I yell.
If I weren't so tired from the packing, loading, unloading and unpacking I might have seen some humor at the spectacle of two people with three good hands between them trying to right a fallen shelf. But I didn't. I couldn't. I had just reached the end of my rope of being capable, of being able to handle life, of getting it all done and keeping it all together. We couldn't do anything but push it to the back of the pantry. And then I walked out. All the way to the bathroom. Where I silently screamed. Oh, I am dangerous.
The shelf is still there, wedged perpendicular to the shelf below it.
And there it will stay.
And my Honey is back playing solitaire.