Wacky Wild Woman Wins!

Okay, so I'll be the first to admit that I am mentally ill, however benign my condition may be. There are some things that I'll agree are wacky, without logic, off the wall weird -- but what's inside my head is very, very real. Lately, I've been having the wildest dreams and the only reason I can find is my mother's admonition that eating hotdogs gives you bad dreams. I have been eating hotdogs, craving the weiner in a bun with mustard, relish, and chopped onions, along with a light sprinkle of grated cheese, and I've had wild, wacky dreams, so perhaps Mom is right.

One of the hotdog-induced dreams is that my water heater falls apart and floods the garage with however many gallons of water therein, which is actually not a totally bad dream as my garage houses about 40-50 boxes from the move in January 2000. Yeah, January 2000, which is where more wacky comes into play, which I'll explain in a moment. Meanwhile, back at the hot water heater, I'm thinking that I'm thinking about it covering the floor with water as a definitive way to have to deal with the boxes: logical thinking from my brain as the flood forces me to do something, anything, with the boxes.

The other night, after another hotdog dinner, I dreamed that I left on vacation and when I came back -- the garage was empty. Now, that seems too good to be true, but get this: my guy sent me an email the next morning and said, "Do you want me to come to the house while you're gone and deal with the boxes?" Again, logical thinking from my brain forces me to accept the karma present in this whole scenario, so I send my one-word response: YES!!! and added ASAP.

Today, he showed up with a chair so he could sit while we talked about the garage project, which led to the dream about the hot water heater (which is 20 years old), as well as the need to get a gas dryer and rid myself of the electric dryer (he has a gas dryer and is donating it to the project). I also don't have any idea how to set the timer for the watering system, so he's going to pick up another one of those when he goes shopping for a new water heater (which will, of course, necessitate new fittings, etc., as well as strapping it to the wall for safety). We decided on 4 options for the contents of the boxes: save, donate, discard, yard sale -- but he has to take the stuff for the yard sale as that's not in my comfort zone. The general guidelines are if it looks old with a foundation in family history, save it, along with my dishes, the rest of my pots and pans, and anything that looks like I really should hold onto it. I've already asked my children if there is anything that I have that they want and both of them said, "Hell, no," so let's git 'er done.

Now, you have to understand that he's totally into this project and has been bugging me since last summer to git 'er done. I tried to explain that I think the reason I cannot open/empty the boxes (since the move in January 2000) is that it will mean that I'm going to stay here, and I don't want to spend my twilight years in the desert. I moved away for a reason, and I came back for an income; between the two, there has to be somewhere else I could enjoy living now that I have my retirement income, but I have no idea where that is or if I'm ever going to go there. Now, the interesting thing is that as long as the boxes stay packed, I think I can pick up and go, but the reality is that once I get rid of all the stuff I haven't seen in almost a decade, I really can get up and go -- and I don't know which of these options to pick! Is there a door number 3???

Just in case, I bought 5 quick picks for tonight's lottery, basing my decision on the fact that today is 070809, which the numerologists say is totally lucky for financial investments. After looking at the check I wrote to my guy as a down payment on all the work he's going to do, I actually need to win so I can pay the balance when I come back from my vacation -- however much that balance is going to be. Suffice it to say that he's going to St. Thomas after cleaning my garage, and I think I may be paying for his vacation, as well as mine.

So there ya have it: one of my dreams is going to come true (a clean garage) and one of my nightmares is going to be avoided (the bottom falling out of the hot water heater). I've polished off the last of the hotdogs, so I should be good to go until the next cravings hit.