It gets better, doesn't it?

Please tell me that it does get better.  I awoke this morning to a 7.20am call on my cell. Our tenant, who rents out our old place in downtown Jersey City, informed me that the toilet was leaking from the bottom, and the toilet did not flush.  In addition, she shared that she'd been in a major car accident over the weekend, was in pain and her right hand was bandaged, injured from shattered glass.  Oy.

Al had already left for work via bus.  So I rushed out of bed and headed up to Jersey City to deal with the situation.  Luckily, All Week Plumbing came through and met me as I was pulling up on 6th Street. 

I am proud to say that all by myself I, ALONE, hauled up a toilet tank and bowl in two separate trips up three flights of stairs.  Of course, I chose the most compact set at Home Depot. Nevertheless, I carried each part by myself.  Mom was in tow as I needed her car to load the tank & bowl.  Naturally, I didn't want her to lift anything!  Yep, I did it all by myself . . . up the stairs -- because All Week Plumbing does not install any new equipment unless it is already on the premises.


It's more like SCREAM.  I wanted to SCREAM. AAAARRRRRGGGHHHHH!

I didn't lose it.  I didn't cry, but I sure felt like it. 

When I first arrived at the apartment, all I could think was:
  • My dad's 40th day death anniversary is this week. 
  • My job is gone.
  • And I have to deal with this 'shitty' problem.
Some major blessing must be on its way, do you think?  

I know -- I have my mom, my husband, my health and some of my sanity (though that's questionable).  Simple abundance and thanksgiving, I remind myself.