Dear Mrsatroxi,

My husband has a theory.

He thinks that if something good happens in your life, then something bad will also happen, a sort of cosmic see-saw that swings you between happiness and sadness.

My parents have something very close to that as their life philosophy.

Atroxi and I sold our house Monday.

We sold it to scheming, dishonest, awful people that I hope we never ever have to have any dealings with again.

They will fit in perfectly with the neighbor.

The terrible news atroxi and I got a few weeks ago was the news that these people were trying to back out of the deal. The hard-working person was our lovely realtor who managed to pull the deal back together. We had to take legal action and steps in the direction of suing these people. They finally capitulated, but it took time and stress and it was simply not a nice time for us at all. They sprung a Monday settlement date at us on Sunday, and I could not get off from work that quickly. I had to sign a power of attorney so that atroxi could just sign everything for me.

Monday, I felt like crap. I took myself out to a nice restaurant on my lunch break in hopes of cheering up a little.

I ended up in the hospital.

Oh, yes.

The kind of stupid thing that only ever happens to me.

As I was leaving, I slipped and fell. I wrenched my arm, twisted my ankle, and, the piece de resistance, hit my head on something and busted it open. Scared some poor old couple to death and bled all over the floor. Got a fun ride in an ambulance, and then had to have my poor long-suffering boss pick me up at the ER, since atroxi was at settlement. At least I don’t have stitches. I have something much more fun. Superglue! Well, “Dermabond” actually, but it’s the same thing. That would be fine, except the gash goes well up into my hairline. That’s right folks. I have gobs of glue in my hair.

I look so pretty.

Sigh.

(I do want to write a little more about the whole house-selling experience, but at a later time…)

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