Now I’m no expert in god and all things divine, what with being a lapsed Catholic and all. Most days I’m not sure if god even exists. But there are times when all my doubts of a supreme being disappear: the minute I make plans. Then all I can hear is laughter and last week I’m pretty sure god laughed her ass off. Where to even start.
The exodus from France was relatively unremarkable with the predictable level of mayhem—a chair leg gouged here, an ottoman cover stained there, small pommes de terre. We arrived en Suisse sometime around 4 in the afternoon. The sun was shining, Julie Andrews, the Von Trapp children and Heidi were waiting at the border to sing and yodel us through, and customs was a breeze. That my friends is where the smooth road ended and the bumpy road began.
Before I get into this, let me first say that I called this one, once again proving to you (and more importantly to my husband) that I am always right. Back when we first saw our apartment, the owner swore that the kitchen renovation would be finished by the time we moved in. At the time, I thought I’ll eat my chapeau if that work is done in 3 weeks, but then I decided to ‘let go and let god’ as the religious folks often say.
So when I walked toward our new front door and saw the hallway littered with paint buckets and other reno debris, I knew my plans for a seamless transition were not to be. Most of you know that I was the queen of renovations, but after almost losing my mind after house number 8, I gave up the crown. The whole point of renting is to avoid this madness. I opened the door to a construction site—dust, paint fumes, a section of hardwood floor missing and an unusable kitchen draped in plastic sheeting. Sweet Jaysus.
Of course the rental agent (so cute in her skinny jeans and stiletto ankle booties) was all excusez-moi and je suis desolée, but what good are delicate sounding French apologies when she follows it with the news of an electrician and painter arriving at 7 a.m. the next morning? Merde. We were not remotely prepared for that mess.
Nothing to do but soldier on, right? I’ll update you on the battle next time. All I can say is that the bloody Crusades were probably easier than the week we had. I prayed to god for strength over and over but I don’t think she heard me, too busy hooting and howling at me and my little plans. At least I think I have found my purpose on this earth. It’s clear she has put me here solely for her own entertainment.