|Chin-chin, darling! All you need is Gin, Aranciata, cocktail glasses, lime, striped straws, and Bravo TV.|
Well, I set out bright and early Monday morning to get the tires changed on the Jetta. I paid for the service, handed the keys over to the kind gentlemen at the service center, and went on my merry way to kill some time. About ten minutes later, I got a phone call. "Do you happen to know where the wheel lock key would be located in your car?" Um, excuse me. What is that? I was clueless. With Flyboy thousands of miles away and sans cell phone service, I was stumped. I was advised to call the dealership to see if they might sell me this particular key. In typical island fashion, my minor crisis meant nothing to the local VW employees. Apparently, no one felt it was important to pick up their phones. Oy vey! When I finally got someone on the horn, I was told this key couldn't be purchased (despite what I'd read online) and that I'd have to pay $150 to get the car serviced by the dealership and they would switch out the locks for regular lug nuts. Are you kidding me? After a few snippy phone calls, I finally got someone to agree to sell us the lock. Now I just have to arrange to take the car to the other side of the island sometime this week to see if they have the right lock in stock. Thankfully, Flyboy returns this week and he might be able to assist me in my tire tantrum.
To make matters worse, I fed the dogs on Monday morning and Beesly wouldn't eat. She went to the living room and started licking her leg. A few months ago she had a cyst and it was drained. We were told that there was a good possibility that the cyst would return. Sure enough, the lump was back and she was missing a tiny patch of hair. I called the vet and ended up taking her in for an appointment on Tuesday morning. Because my doggie duo is inseparable, I ended up taking both Tripp and Beesly to the appointment. As you've probably already imagined, we arrived in our typical Ouiser Boudreaux fashion. It was a hot mess, indeed! Long story long, Beesly is going back to the vet clinic this morning for an operation. They're going to remove the lump and run a few tests to ensure she's okay.
While these speed bumps in the week aren't terribly devastating, I'm always amazed at how everything happens while the mister is away. I guess I got lucky the past few trips that he's been gone. Things have been going too smoothly. I should have known we were due for something. I hadn't experienced this kind of frustration in awhile. I felt like I was trying to get stuff done, but there were a few road blocks. My planned timeline meant very little, and I was reminded that I don't have control of everything. In all actuality, I needed this reminder. I needed to have a good cry. I had a lot on my mind:
- My sister was making her big move West. My emotions were mixed -- I was excited for her, but anxious as well. I wanted to be there to help with this transition. I'm so proud of her bravery! I guess you could say the mama hen in me wants to be there to hold her hand, every step of the way.
- My mom is back in the Midwest visiting family and I wish I could be there to see everyone. Living so far away really stinks sometimes! Airline tickets can be pretty pricey. I haven't seen this part of my family in over a year. I miss being closer and the opportunity to make memories.
- Beesly's like a child to me, so I can't help but worry about the worst possible scenario. She means the world to us; she's my sunshine. While I'd like to think I'm the family matriarch, it's this Berner that binds us all together. I hate when she's in pain, but I'm happy that we're going to get this taken care of. Stay tuned for Instagram photos -- she'll be sporting the cone, no doubt.
Life on the blog can appear quite polished, but I can assure you that it's not always that perfect. Every once in awhile, a total meltdown is inevitable. You know what I'm talking about -- forget the black mascara marks, tear streaks are evident and appear as light stripes against your foundation and bronzer. It's not pretty, folks! Luckily, there's a prescription. More cowbell?! Not quite. This gal prefers a fizzy gimlet and a few hours of Bravo. It's just what the doctor ordered!
Happy Wednesday, dear friends!
P.S. Stay tuned for a post later this afternoon. The Shabby Apple giveaway winner will be announced. Eek!