You're going to need a timeline:
Saturday, Sam Houston Racepark ("the horses" as they say in Houston) begins a 2-day festival. "Something Wicked". It involves club mix music, a DJ, lots of alcohol. It's called a rave. It is so loud Saturday night I can hear the music in my bedroom, three and a half miles away, with a fan and a noise machine running simultaneously.
Ron and I go hunting for the music. It appears to be coming from the Fed Ex, half a mile away. I shake my fist at the Fed Ex and say some VERY rude things. I demand Ron "stop it" because he's the man and it's his job to fix these things.
[snicker] Poor Ron. I was a little cranky.
Ron calls the county police (we live in the county). They tell him it's the Racetrack. Sorry, it will be over in about an hour.
NOT HAPPY, we go home and endure the music. Ron had already cancelled church because the trips would have been hideous.
Now, of course, we can't attend because it's after midnight. I write a scathing letter to the county commissioner.
Sunday I sleep in as late as possible, after 10. I have a very early wakeup on Monday and I have discovered the stupid rave thing runs another night.
Sure enough, after falling asleep for an hour or so, the loud bass wakes me up again and I end up lying in bed doing intercessory prayer for everyone, especially all those involved with the rave.
Hating just messes up my immune system, and I want to be better than that. I did my best until they finally shut it down at midnight.
Great. Now I have an hour and a half to sleep before I have to get up for work.
Monday: I wake up at 2 AM, hit the snooze button a few times, get up, take my shower. I remind God I will see Him later when I am more fresh and alert. I gulp my last Diet Mountain Dew. Our ride arrives on time.
We have to get two deliveries. One's sandwiches, and one's our soda delivery. I remind Ron they do bring it to our door, which is great.
The other vendor wanted a cup of coffee, so I attempted to make him one, only to realize the coffee machine grinder was not working. I prayed about it, figured it out, got it going again, thank you Jesus.
I stocked food and sandwiches while Ron did sodas. We waited. And waited some more.
And Dr Pepper finally admitted they wouldn't be making the delivery today. Great. We could have slept in, because the stupid....
Deep breath. That's about when I began to giggle and just treat it as a joke. I mean, when things get that awful, I just have to laugh at it.
I got up at 2 AM, after 2 hour's sleep, for nothing. I have to laugh at that.
I don't want to walk around complaining and whining like Ron. I love him dearly, but I do hate that about him. I feel like, when we're in public, I'm always telling him to knock it off.
"I signed up for this" I'll say "But the driver didn't. Have mercy on them, their job's hard enough." Ron will laugh and stop.
I don't want to be that person, because we all know one. We all avoid that person. I want to be liked, I admit it. I want people to see me as a positive overcomer.
So I went home with Ron.
I did put my foot down about Tuesday. "I need tomorrow off." Ron agreed, said it wasn't even a question.
I couldn't wait to go home and crawl into bed... but the yard guy was there. He worked for about an hour, we paid him. and he went on his way. The yard looks great. No one can complain about it, front or back. He'll be back, thank God.
Now I could take a nap. Surprisingly, I only slept 2 hours.
I got up, did my God Time, Ron went to the liquor store (I was tempted to ask him to pick me up some cherry brandy, the few times I did drink I loved the stuff, but I'm not going that route and it would interact even if I did), came home.
Ron called the homeowner's assocation, who liked his idea about writing letters to some politicians. They're on that. Good to know they do earn their money without crawling up our butts.
Oh, thank God that's all over.
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