So when, as in the course of general human events, things go wrong, there's no opportunity to stop, there's no opportunity to take a breath, there's no opportunity to take stock of your strategy for dealing with it and more so, that there's never, ever, any chance to say no thanks, I'd rather not deal with that, it's outside the terms of the original agreement.
Having said all this, your party was fabulous.
Now, on with the woe is me.
It's hard to know where to start with this litany of disasterfication, but we'll try to find a point at which to jump off.
We need to preface this by saying that I'm waiting for someone to call me about something very important, but that he can't call me until someone calls him about it. So first of all the guy totally didn't call back about the thing yesterday, so I spoke to him at about 1130 and said 'i'm going into a meeting, i'll be out at two', and he was like yep ok no problem i'll call you as soon as there's news.
Apart from that, though,
everything's fabulous. As I sit here to write this, it's with a feeling of extreme fatigue, sure, but it's also with a feeling of pride that your mother and I managed to meet all of these great challenges, none of them incredibly huge problems in and of themselves, but when lumped together it all felt very close to being too much to cope with. It was 24 hours, punkin, of the most stressed I'd been since you arrived. Even when you were in the hospicamackal and we were very worried about you, I didn't feel so overwhelmed, I didn't fear that I would be unable to continue. I didn't once think that I couldn't cope.
This time, I did, but I was able, mainly through knowing that your mum was there to stand beside me, to fix everything that needed to be fixed (although it was your mum that installed the extended electric fence yesterday All By Herself while I was at work).