Happy Birthday to Me!?!

Well, this is gonna be an interesting day.

I am somewhere in the vicinity of 40, but that is not what I am going to bitch about today. I have a whole year to do that.

Today I will complain about my roof. And Blue Cross (the "cross" stands for my feelings toward them while "blue" is for the streak of cursing that ensues when dealing with them).

Andrew has been angling to get the roofing company out to finish the job. They sent a lovely young woman out early this morn to appraise what needed to be done. Within 30 seconds of seeing the soffits and fascia she said that they would have to come down. All of it. One of the worst soffit/fascia jobs she has seen since yesterday because that was when she inspected another house "fixed" by the same contractor. She apologized profusely and said that we would get it redone for free. Tomorrow. Take pictures of the mistakes for insurance purposes today 'cause it is all coming down tomorrow.

And our foundation is bad, she said. Really bad. The look of pity in her eyes was unbearable. She must have thought we were complete nincompoops.

Well, she's not totally wrong...

All this before 10 a.m.

After trying to take some pictures (the sun is way too bright for it right now) I sat down for some brunch when I/we were interrupted by a call from Blue Cross. The nice lady didn't understand why we had paid ahead. What was wrong with you, she implied. If you want to make monthly payments that would be fine but who in their right mind would want to pay up till December? WTF?

I tried not to scream thru my delicious sandwich that A had so lovingly made. Andrew assured her that we were in our right minds (as much as WE could be). Flabbergasted, the Blue Cross woman hung up, no doubt putting a red flag on our file (crazy artist types who want to get ahead of the bill paying game, DO NO TRUST).

So, what else can I expect for my birthday? I have a physical this afternoon (booked and then rebooked 3 months ago) so maybe I have a tumor? I mean another one as I know about the first one. Perhaps I will be diagnosed with sillyitis or WTF syndrome. Maybe it was me coughing up all those hairballs, not the cats.

At the very least I am going to enjoy the Colours gift card my adorable loving husband gave me and purchase some art supplies. They say that art therapy is great for us crazies. Need to have something to do when they lock us up in the padded room....