I particularly don't like it right now when everything else in the world is in disarray.
BUT, the gas pipes had to be replaced in the entire building so there was no avoiding discombobulation. And today, this morning in fact, the circus arrived.
First thing, one of my coven rang me at 8:30am.
Voice mail recorded "I know this is probably too early..."
which is now the understatement of the year. I'd gone to bed around 4am.
But I was up, so I swilled V8, looked at my incoming email, checked my dayplanner, and thought about going back to bed.
Just as I did, the doorbell sounded.
Several times.
I figured a delivery of some sort, but no, it was the building super, holding a balloon. The circus was on its way.
I quickly washed the dishes that mysteriously appeared in the sink overnight. (I live alone.)
Swept the floor.
Regretted not taking out the recycling the night before.
Strapping young men arrived in masks and work boots holding a drill that was easily five feet long.
I not only step out of the way, I retreat to the office where the AC unit is running.
When I ventured back out, they'd moved the stove.
When the stove is where it's supposed to be, there's a wire shelf above it with pots and pans and baking dishes.
Now those were all in the sink.
And the wire shelving that serves as a pantry was covered (sort of) in plastic.
So, no water, no cooking, and distressingly NO BATHROOM.
The stove had been moved such that it blocked the bathroom door.
Under normal circumstances I'd have packed up and moved to the Hilton for the day.
Well, that wasn't in the cards.
I just went back to bed.
And when I got up, there was so much grit in the air, on the floor, on everything, I was glad I hadn't washed the floor this weekend like I'd had on my list.
It took them another four hours to finish. I was able to manhandle the stove away from the bathroom door enough and step in for a moment, but yikes stripes what a day.
And the most dreadful part? All this began before I made coffee.
But there is a happy ending.
They're gone.
The stove is back in place,
I moved the dishes out of the sink.
The coffee is brewing.
And I have a new chair for the office!
 |
| New chair! |
Given my dreadful assembly skills, I'm quite pleased it hasn't collapsed.
I got absolutely no work done at all.
Have you been utterly discombulated before?
Tell us what happened and how you dealt with it!
22 comments:
I've been married forever. I have children. I have grandchildren Discombobulated is my middle name.
Btw, is that the notorious snot-green couch behind your new office chair?
Oh, that office chair is just asking someone to sink into it. Quite jealous (mine is old and the foam flattened to nothing).
Discombobulated is how the ever changing covid restrictions leave me - I can't keep up!
You're brave! I couldn't have gone back to bed with workmen in my apartment. I'd have definitely made them leave enough room to get to the bathroom though ;)
Sometimes, I think my life is just a big discombobulation...
We have two 92 year olds we are caring for...
You had me at "strapping young men."
Discombobulated is a wonderful world. Yes, it's been my companion too.
When I tried to videotape the first Sunday service on my phone. Baaaaad idea. Now I videotape on my computer. In an empty sanctuary. Musician's songs/hymns (recorded in her home) get added, and Scripture reader gets inserted. Thank goodness for a digital savvy office admin.
When I met with a bride and groom (outdoor wedding), we scotched several traditional bits...no ushers, families seat themselves in physically distanced "bubbles," no shared microphones, a table between me and them, no sharing pens to sign papers.
Not to mention, how many times I lose focus or lose energy for doing the simplest tasks, such as making a phone call!
But I am grateful for these summer days, overly hot and humid and all.
There is no end to the discombobulation. I have never worked so much ever. The pandemic has made everything in the school district a moving target. I am so tired by end of day I can hardly see straight. I am going to have to put something stronger in the coffee machine I think. I have not even had time for my usual distractions - this blog, my writing - I just want things to settle down for a bit.
Oh, and one of my lovely co-workers - his twenty-five year old son was killed Friday. He left behind two small daughters. More tears than one person can stand.
I wish for serenity and a long-period of peace and prosperity after all this turmoil. And some laughter.
Love your blog, Janet. Met you a few years back at a meeting of NY Sisters in Crime. You were so much fun I've been checking your blog ever since. I'm locked down out here in Queens, but being a glass half full kind of person, I'm not at all discombobulated, but enjoying these only during Covid moments while they last. . . the toilet paper championship bouts in the Stop n' Shop, the three-buck margaritas and mojitos sold out of tailgates under the Roosevelt Ave. el, rents finally coming down in Astoria (w-a-a-a-ay down), I choose to see the bright side.
Discombobulation is a regular state of being for me. I hope this means grill cheese sandwiches will soon be possible in your place. Enjoy the chair!
Many times in the past have I bobbed for discombobulated apples. We have been in this house for 24 years, though, and all of those apples have turned to oranges.
Of late, it only those who don't believe there is such a thing as a pandemic,(maybe because they can't see themselves as zombies)and disregard safe practices for themselves or others, that takes me back to head dunking. I don't want to believe that there are so many who are so callus.
What a day! I'm glad it's over and you got coffee and a new chair.
Brings me back to my flooring reno from hell where a three day flooring job turned into a 3 week nightmare. No kitchen, no laundry room, dust and debris everywhere, and the four of us (mom, dad, 2 YO, and 7 month old baby) confined to our master (the only untouched room in the house) for 21 very very long days.
At least this time around in quarantine I have access to the entire house and ZERO construction.
Loved this post. I could almost smell your coffee, aaah. ☕
I have never heard the word discombobulation. Predictive text doesn't seem to have either. I won't try to answer your question - I'm not sure enough what it is. ;)
Translation Tool is just as stupid as me.
I Googled it. Is it a real word?
"Discombobulate is a fun, fancy word for “confuse.” If something has put you in a state where you don't know up from down and you can't spell your own name, you may be discombobulated."
Janet [Jay, A, En, E, Tee], I'm worried now. Should I call a doctor for you? 🤣
I went through a total envelope replacement - meaning they had to demolish all of the outside of my 3-storey condo building, down to the studs, from the outside. Building covered in scaffolding covered with tarps for two years. I'd come home from a long day at work to be met with notes under my door; messages like "kindly remove everything from all of the cabinets within a six foot distance of your north kitchen wall, as we're demolishing it tomorrow" I never knew what was coming next: that's discombobulation.
The lack of coffee on four hours of sleep is the REAL horror story here. I'm yawning just thinking about it!
My best way to survive being discombob'd is to just have grace on myself. Know when you're trying your best and respect it. I try to frame it as productive and immobilizing emotions. Guilt is immobilizing/Conviction is productive. Stress is immobilizing/inspiration is productive. Frustration is immobilization/determination is productive.
I like to picture myself as a bouncer for my own brain. When an emotion pops up, I check if it has an accompanying plan. You can't be convicted or determined without actions attached, that's just part of the emotion. But guilt doesn't have a direction. It's just dead weight. SO toss it out. Nothing good comes from guilt. Nothing good comes from berating yourself. You're just killing your energy and punishing yourself uselessly. Good things come from grace.
Life got a whole lot easier once I realized my religion has no place for guilt or fear. When I mess up, God convicts me and shows me a new path forward. No time for wallowing.
Discombobulate may be the word for 2020. I have a hard time remembering the day of the week.
I did find out that all those extra packages of toilet paper I've acquired since March make excellent padding for items in moving boxes.
We gutted our kitchen in 2016. Took out everything from the cabinets, loaded the old kitchen on a truck, and replaced with new cabinets, countertops, redid the floors, etc.
A pretty standard update, but it felt anything but standard. 2 weeks of using a toaster over on our covered porch was enough to almost send us over the edge.
Then Covid hit and we got some much-needed perspective. (Glad the kitchen was done by that point!)
Being an Army brat, "discombobulation" was my life. I was born on the Autobahn in the back of a US Army field ambulance under a "no-stopping" sign. I count my years by how many different schools I attended (often more than one per year), how many houses/quarters/apartments/hotels I lived in, how many states/countries I traveled to and through. And then I married a Soldier and did it all over again.
Now we are retired, living on the edge of nowhere. What little inconveniences the pandemic has caused us have nothing on the turmoil that I used to consider normal. So, I count my blessings, commiserate with those less fortunate, and pray for a time when we can all safely go about our business again.
Strapping? Do tell.
Hearing your discombobulated misery story makes me feel I am in good company. I live with my daughter and two dogs. Tucker, the oldest, is a foster failure. He just had surgery on both back legs, dog ‘knee replacement’. Surgery was last Friday and he came home late Sat. My daughter took Sun off, followed by her regular days off so she could help him. He has a sling-like thing we use to help him move without use of his hind legs. As you can imagine, potty breaks are a challenge.
My daughter manages a petting zoo, and went back to work yesterday, leaving me to care for the dog. I don’t have a ‘real job’ as I’m home working on a novel. We send our other crazy 2yr-old to doggie day care so at least she doesn’t add to the problem. My computer is upstairs, obviously not a place Tucker can go. It’s too much for me to carry his 65-lb half limp body up a flight of stairs. We planned to have him rest comfortably in a downstairs room while I worked. He had other plans. After an hour of constant whining I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than, ‘is he in pain?’ ‘does he need to go out?’ ‘Why did my daughter spoil this fricken dog?’.
I remembered I had an old laptop I had used while writing my first novel and needed to travel a lot for work.I thought I could boot it up and sit downstairs with the whiney Tucker. If you work with Scrivener, you may have experienced the difficulties involved with working on two different computers. Add to that the fun of trying to update a laptop that hasn’t been turned on in 3 years. After hours of updates, over 14,000 file downloads, and challenging dog potty breaks I still could not get my WIP to load.
I am sitting on the floor now with Tucker petting him with one hand and pecking this out on my ipad with one finger on the other. It may take awhile but it keeps my mind occupied. Apologies in advance for any grammar errors.
A new laptop should arrive tomorrow.
Discombobulation? Research trip to Savannah, Ga...Day 2.5 of 7, roll my right foot on a handicapped-sloped curb by a drain...fractured my ankle in two places. Dr says I can't stay in town. My friend had to drive 6hrs to take me home! I'm learning to be still with 2 dogs, 3 cats and hubby. Writing time!
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