Had a horrible night last night. First, I had a nightmare that I was being chased by a giant monster through some ruins. I woke up because I was breathing too hard and looked at the clock. I’d only slept for a couple of hours.
Then Sookie, the elderly bulldog, starts hyperventilating and craws onto the Shih-Tzu’s tiny pillow by my side of the bed. The Shih-Tzu runs away, of course, and find a different spot. Sookie is drooling and there is a damn lake of spit.
For some reason, I have awful heartburn, too. I’m trying to remember if I took my Prilosec as I was supposed to in the morning, and I don’t know. I have GERD but it’s usually well controlled with medication.
The world past the French doors flashes, and simultaneously thunder cracks and shakes the house. And then there this deafeningly loud drumming.
Sookie freaks the hell out. Nykie, the dachshund mix, who is sleeping in our room because Kid 2 is in Austin right now, makes a mad leap and climbs onto our bed next to Charles Tubbins, who doesn’t even register the noise. He is just snoring.
I go to the French doors, and yes, it is the trademark Texas spring hail the size of shelled walnuts and it is bombarding the house. It sounds like we’re being shot at with pellets from some giant cannon and it’s super loud.
Gordon jumps out of the bed and takes off.
“Where are you going?”
“Where is the car?”
“Where you left it.”
I had gone out on Monday and I always park in the garage. Always. But that particular Monday the trash people came early, took the recycling, and blocked me in with the trashcans. I moved the trashcans to the side gate, went to my appointment, and when I came back, the trashcans were again in my way, so I got out, went inside the house, and Gordon and I moved them to their usual spot in the small courtyard out of sight.
I had forgotten to repark the car.
I chase Gordon and I’m like, “I’ll do it. I was the one…”
He takes the keys from me and takes off into the hail. I was right in front of the garage, so he didn’t have to run far. The windshield survived somehow and it is a miracle.
We go back to bed, and Tuna, the orange cat, runs into the bedroom, from which she is banned, because she tries to sleep on your head during the night. I try to get her out, and she hides under the bed which she does never. Gordon and I decide it’s not a battle worth fighting.
Sookie is still hyperventilating and drooling. Someone is whining. I still have heartburn. I get up again and get a Pepcid, because unlike Prilosec, which is best taken 45 minutes before food, this Pepcid is dual action and should work on the acid already in there.
We have an adjustable bed, so we move it into Zero G, I prop myself with a pillow, and Gordon puts on a documentary about some weirdoes in Alaska camping on the site of an abandoned settlement and looking for Bigfoot. It drowns out some of the hail and I finally pass out.
I am so damn tired this morning. Groggy, and dumb, and in a really bad mood.
Today will be the never ending parade of roofers coming to the door because they descend onto our neighborhood like locusts after every major storm. The roof on the house is huge and old. I’m almost certain that the hail has done it in just from the sheer force of it. Because we are in Texas, we have a hail damage clause in our home insurance policy, which basically means a massive 20K deductible related to hail damage. We will be paying for the roof replacement mostly out of pocket.
The name of Magic Claims might have to be abandoned to a much more practical “Magic Replaces the Roof.”
Ugh. Do not want. And my stomach is still upset. I might have to double the meds today.
Well, I’m going to take all this sunshine and joy I’m radiating, and try to get some work done. I suppose we should be grateful it didn’t knock out our power again. God forbid something happens to Texas grid, the most fragile utility construct on the planet.