Living communally has its definite ups and downs. I’m happy to report that if you pick the right people to live with it is a real blessing most of the time. More than anything, we have to be able to have a great sense of humor about most everything, or I think we would all go completely nuts (We are all already a little nuts anyway!). So, I’ve decided to regularly share some of our comic relief with you, my friends. I’m going to name the blog series, “Tales From The Commune.”
Today’s tale is entitled: Oops! I’m stuck here.
Last Saturday, PG went out to get something from her car parked in front of our house. When she got outside, she discovered this:
Yep, folks. A completely flat tire.
This is when living communally comes in handy. I’ve let her borrow my minivan all week to get back and forth to work, but that means that the rest of us have had to work out transportation/carpooling. Fortunately, Mark and Jon have schedules that are similar (coffee with this guy, lunch meeting with that guy, board meeting there, rub shoulders with those people), so that means they’ve been able to ride together a lot. This leaves me with Mark’s truck to do my taxi duties with the kids.
Well, this morning everyone was up and out pretty early except for Kindsey and me. We were enjoying a bit of a lazy Friday morning after a busy week and hosting a dinner last night. At 10:24am suddenly it dawns on me that I never talked through car sharing with anyone last night or this morning. Immediately this is the text convo I have with Mark (who is up in the mountains with Jon for the day):
Me: Did you take Jon’s Jeep so that I can use the truck to pick up the kids from school?
Mark: Shoot! The keys to the truck are in my pocket!!!!! Darn it, my bad. What r our options? Whit gets home soon right?
Me: IDK. Can u get back in time to get them?
Silence…..no response.
I call Whitney and explain what’s up and ask her what time she gets off work today. She says she can leave the Colorado Athletic Club at 2:30pm, but it takes her awhile to get to her car, plus it’s snowing so she doesn’t know how long it will take her to get from downtown back out to west Denver. People, my kids get out of school at 2:45. It’s freezing cold and snowing outside, and they have to stand out in it and wait for their ride. Their school has no buses, and we live too far for them to walk. I decide to call the office to let them know that Whit will be picking the kids up from school, but that it may be after 3pm before she gets there. So, please for heaven’s sake can my babies wait inside in the office?
Don’t ask me why, but I tend to be a teensy bit scared of school secretaries. If you have ever worked in a school (which I have) or spent much time in a school, you know that the school secretaries have the majority of the power in a school. Yes. The principal is the boss, but to get to the principal you have to get through the support staff first. If you get on their bad side, you may as well transfer schools, because they can make you and your kids’ lives hell for years. This particular secretary that I spoke with this morning has worked at this school for over 20 years, and she intimidates me. The principal at the school this year is new. He’s there on an interim basis, a trial year. He wants to stay on as the principal permanently. I guarantee you that he’s scared of her. I know I am, so having to call and admit imperfection to her was not my happiest moment.
Rather than let all this upset me and ruin my day, I just had to laugh. Seriously.
To make matters worse. Now, the dishwasher isn’t working. Their are 8 people living here. Some days I run that thing 3 times! After our little dinner party last night, I stacked dishes in that sucker like it was a game of Tetris. I’m not kidding you when I say that I do not know anyone who can fit more dishes in a dishwasher than me. It’s an obsession.
Granted. The machine is old, but it has worked great for the 4 months we have lived here. Late last night after loading her down I switched her on just like I have multiple times a day for the past 4 months, but I got nothing. Nothing happened. I tried again, and again, and again. I begged. I opened and closed her. I pleaded. I sent Mark to check the fuse box. I shook her a little and gave her a little “love” kick. I may have even dropped an inappropriate word or two. Then I decided to just go to bed and pray to God that she would work this morning. Nope. She’s still not working. I think we’ve done her in. I refuse to unload all those dishes and wash them by hand. Paper plates and plastic ware are in our future. Sorry, Earth. I love you, but I am living with too many people to be hand washing dishes. This will conserve water, and I promise I’ll buy the plates that are biodegradable. Costco here I come as soon as someone comes home with a car and car keys I can use.
