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Snow my God! It’s Snowmageddon! Apparently we’re going to be buried alive under 3 -27 inches of snow, depending on which meteorologist you listen to.

This is just a recap of my week, keeping in mind that it’s only Wednesday. Also, I was born on a Wednesday, which explains a lot.

Remember the insurance fiasco? I didn’t quite get the transaction completed last week because the agent left for the weekend before I could call back with all the information (like the mileage on the car). As you’re reading this, I want you to keep a number in mind. The number is 3.71.

I called the agent on Friday. I had her bill in front of me, which had all the information, plus the handy-dandy phone number. I left it on my desT© all weekend. I went over to my mom’s on Sunday to get the odometer reading. I wrote that number (3,151 miles, if you’re interested. I want that car!) on an envelope and stuck it in my purse. When I got home, I took the envelope out of my purse and wrote the number on the bill and then put the bill in my purse and left the envelope on the desT©.

Notice there is nothing up my sleeve.

Or in my head.

Monday morning I started off to work and then realized I didn’t have my mother’s credit card with me. I didn’t turn around because I remembered that I had her checkbook and the agent told me I could do a check over the phone, or the card. No problem.

When I got to work, I realized I forgot to get the bill off my desT©.  Which meant I didn’t have the phone number. So I hunted down a phone book because that’s what normal people do, right? Only the agent wasn’t listed in the book. I know because I looked three times. Then I called the main number – but it was disconnected. WTF? It’s not a fly-by-night company. I checked the date on the phone book because I figured it was from 1993 because that’s just how my luck runs. But no, it was a 2010 book. So I called the Information number (411 for my foreign friends) because Information knows everything – that’s why they call it Information. Information couldn’t find a listing for that agent.

I promised my mother I would take care of it first thing Monday morning. So I went home at lunch to get the freakin’ bill so I could call the freakin’ agent and pay the freakin’ premium so my mother wouldn’t kick me in the freakin’ nuts.

I raced home, ran upstairs, (noticed dog shit on my deck. Are you kidding me?) and skidded to a stop at my desT©. If you’ve been paying attention, you’re already shaking your head. I found the blank envelope I’d written the mileage on. No. No! I opened my purse and dug around – and found the bill. The same bill that I put in my purse the day before so I wouldn’t forget it. The number I had you remember? 3.71? That’s my GPA (and it was slaughtered by bad grades in Java and Finite Math. It used to be higher). I don’t know how I’ve managed to get through 44 years my life without a personal assistant – and a bodyguard.

But that was only to prepare me for yesterday. Work has been kind of crazy and I can’t really talk about it, but I am now the proud owner of a whole lot more pressure. Yay me.  I went to see MoC after work. She’s been tired again – a lot. As in sleeping most of the day for the past several days. I think she’s had another mini-stroke, because that’s how she was for a few days after the last two mini-strokes, but we won’t know until we get the results from the MRI that she had done today. This up-and-down thing is very difficult to watch. I can only imagine how much more difficult it must be for her to actually live it.

Today I had to get some paperwork notarized. Of course that didn’t work out because the notary had to leave unexpectedly due to a “family emergency” – or because it’s snowing. One or the other.

There are about two inches on the ground already and it isn’t letting up. I’ll be shoveling later tonight – and again in the morning, I’m sure.

For now, I’m drinking hot tea and I plan on snuggling with an adorable girl a little later.

Don’t be jealous. She’ll snuggle with you, too.

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Bonus picture:  My driver’s side door handle. Or what’s left of it.

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