Small Victories And Minor Acts Of Defiance

Sometimes, life gets like this

It has been nearly a month since a narcissistic, bone-headed instructor tried to dismiss my daughter from her graduate program. This beotch doesn’t even have a PhD, but has been allowed to direct the program any way she chooses for years, with no real oversight from anyone else in the university. Our attorney thinks this fact might work in our favor.

My daughter filed an appeal of her dismissal with the dean of her department, but we haven’t heard anything yet, and it is well beyond the 10-day deadline. If he thinks she will just tuck her tail between her legs and run away, he has another thing coming. My family doesn’t roll that way.

In the meantime, we’ve heard that my daughter’s refusal to sign the dismissal paperwork is making the lead instructor anxious. She tried to hound my daughter for it, but got told to stop. She actually went so far as to confess that she throws up just thinking about the situation. She’s been out on vacation for a couple of weeks. Hmm. Could that be because she’s in trouble?

I have to admit that thinking about her throwing up and maybe being in trouble makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. I’ve often thought of finding a way to slash her tires in retribution for all the damage she has done to my daughter and her friends, but I live too far away.

Do these thoughts make me a petty little shit?

On the plus side, my daughter has a solid job offer in her field of study, with the title and pay she wants and deserves. So, if this thing drags out any longer, she will be more than able to support herself and have some fun.

In fact, she’s switched her mindset from being worried about her future to living happily in Alabama with her new friends. She’s visiting furniture websites in anticipation of designing a lovely space in a new apartment.

How do we feel about purple velvet couches?

In all honesty, though, life still feels out of kilter because the universe keeps sending garbage my way. Our water heater went out a few days ago and I can’t find a plumber to fix it until Monday without paying off the mortgage for his summer home.

We’ve been heating water on the stove and using our two-gallon camping sprayer to clean ourselves up. It’s fun and all, but I really crave a luxurious, hot shower and a return to normal life.

Then there’s the problem of the rats in the attic. We can’t figure out how they’re getting in, but I think there’s a multi-generational family partying up there all night long. I get up several times a night to bang on the ceiling, after which they shut up just long enough for me to fall back to sleep before partying on again.

I’ve heard that rats hate the smell of ammonia. I’m going to leave several dishes of the stuff up there tonight and see if the malodorous stench will ward them off.

So, yeah, I’m tired and cranky. I haven’t had a lot of time to read or write, which makes things worse. I miss my therapy.

At least my kid is doing better. I hope all of this other stuff will be resolved soon. Mama needs her beauty sleep.

I know that no one’s life is perfect and that the sun will continue to rise in the mornings. Sometimes, we have no choice but to continue swimming through a river of garbage before we can reach the treasures on the other side.

I think I’m about half way there.