Journal Entry: Fragile as….

To this day, one of my most favorite Christmas movies is the 1984, George C. Scott interpretation of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol (also, hands down, a well written book, in my opinion).

As a child, I was delightfully frightened by Scott as Ebenezer Scrooge (even if his voice still cannot reckon with Patrick Stewart’s tenor — what a voice!).

At any rate, it is September. And while I am not yet dreaming of a white Christmas, I have spent the day thinking about the game of similes Scott/Scrooge observed, along with the Ghost of Christmas Present, when he secretly visited and spied upon his nephew’s annual holiday part.

Here is how all this relates — It has been “one of those days.” And it started around 9am when a series of thunderstorms tip-toed in from Kansas (maybe it was Oklahoma by way of Texas).

Which led to numerous lightning strikes. Which resulted in the electricity being knocked out (a regular occurrence out here in a rural town).

This ultimately boiled down to the town’s sewage pump shorting out. And then this sewage water traveled up into our basement.

Tight as Uncle Ebenezer’s purse strings?

Please.

Fragile as a sewage pump on a stormy morning.

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The offending, fragile sewage water pump. If this day had been in a Doctor Who episode, I’d swear that pump was looking at me ominously.

Post Script: All things considered, there have been some happy outcomes: I kept calm today (my husband and I both did – despite the fact that sewage water was soaking into our basement, carpeting, belongings….).

Between the cognitive behavioral therapy and the meds, life is bearable. And I finally brushed and styled my hair after 6 months of doing nothing with it. Win-win, I suppose. It might have stunk – literally – today, but the world didn’t come to an end.

Sling all the poo you want (depression, Lynch Syndrome, aging) – I’m ready (I think….).

[In response to the Daily Prompt: Fragile]

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