Changing Your Emotional Drift

Except for Wednesday when I went to Melbourne, Florida for a speaking gig, I've spent about 5 hours of each day this week at our energy sucking, money pit of an investment duplex. After squatting for six weeks, the "renters" had finally disappeared last Saturday.

I wanted to believe with all my heart Kenny was exaggerating, but upon our entry into the building last Sunday, I, too, saw the need for rubber gloves and antibacterial bleach. Had I rented to farm animals? I mean, for heavens sake, you'd think a woman who wasn't working would have enough time on her hands for the tiniest bit of cleaning.

And they must have been using the pool for bathing for no one in their right mind would step into that bathtub! Will we ever know what that black stuff really was?

Anyway, I was in a horrendously foul mood as I hauled the 18th bag of debris to the curb when a handsome couple in new jeep stopped and asked if I was the landlord.

"Yes," I smiled grimly, noticing the sweat on my arms had now mingled with both the dirt and the dog hair to create dark, furry streaks, "but today I feel like Cinderella." Or a black lab.

They laughed and I resisted the urge to kick in the door of their new jeep.

"We own a marshal arts studio only two minutes from here and we'd like to rent in this area."

Had I heard them correctly? Kenny had not even put out the for rent sign yet, had he?

Thank goodness I had kept my savagery in check. With a smile now somewhat brighter I put my dirty, furry arms behind me.

"Really! What a coincidence as this unit has just come available. AND, it's the only one on the street with a pool."

Just then Kenny walked out the door and we discovered the young man knows of our good friend, Jay D'Mato, a long time teacher of marshal arts. Jay is one of the reasons our son, Kenny - a marshal artist with cage fighting aspirations, moved back to St. Louis.

We were now bonding rather beautifully I thought. But we've watched enough HG TV to know it would've been madness to let them see the place as it was. We could only let them take our phone number so we'll see what happens.  I beg you to keep your fingers crossed.

But, our encounter with these young people gave us hope if nothing else. And sometimes, when you're sweaty, dirty and angry at the follies (and filth) of some of mankind, a little well-placed hope changes  your emotional drift. It won't pay the mortgage of course, but it's indeed a gift and it does cleanse your spirit. (I still had to hose off my arms)

As all work and no play makes Laurie a dull girl, I took a pool break and the picture you see above. It was a short lived pool break as we've decided the kitchen and bathroom must be gutted. But for some crazy reason I adore renovation and so am back to my sunny self. I don't like cleaning up other's dirt but I can really dig my heels into tearing out cabinets. The sound of demoliton is a beautiful thing. Am I a goofball or what?