So I can’t go home because my neighborhood is trying hard NOT to burn down. Yup, I’m in THAT canyon that’s been on the news smack between the 2 and the 134. Literally watching the helicopters circle the fire trail where we walked the dogs. My mother called me on the way home for the day telling me to come to her house because mine was inaccessible. Sure enough its 10pm and me and the kids are still hanging around waiting for the police to let us IN! I’m dying for a huge dose of Nyquil and my bed! The kids are happily playing Wii with Eithne’s girls while we wait for the all clear from the fire department.
And I realized I seem to have a strange reaction to news like this. Ironic Laughter. When fate throws these unexpected curve balls I seem to find it amusing! When I crashed my car into a poor old man I took all in amazing stride, shrugged it off and boarded a plan for Albuquerque as planned. Even when I got the news I no longer had a van because the insurance company totalled it, I found it amazingly humorous. It was weeks later as I experienced the complete restructuring of my life this caused that I felt the real reaction of shock and depression.
At the moment, I have no idea if I have a home. Although its probably fine. And I’m extremely happy we no longer have a dog, imagining the poor beast would have expired from smoke inhalation! I’m sitting here chuckling over the complete silliness of waiting and wondering when this whole inconvenient “fire” is going to be over so I can go on with my life. Yet if I’d lost my home with all my new clothes! stuff I’d roll my eyes at fate, handle it and later, much later when it was safe… have that breakdown the situation deserved.
In the meantime… I laugh at the crazy plot-line the writers of my life have thought of now!