Introduction to the Past Week
They say, "Everything comes in threes."
But, they also say, "When it rains it pours."
This last week, the challenges have been pouring on us
Because, it hasn’t been three it’s been four.
1. Where's the Car?
5:51 PM. August 18, 2016. Bay Street. San Francisco, CA.
Where’s the car?
I don’t see it. This is bizarre.
Tow Zone
No Stopping
No Standing
4 to 6 PM
My heart is racing.
Now I can’t stop pacing.
This was the place.
The pin and pics he sent show this space.
6:01 PM
Where’s the car?
I don’t see it. This is bizarre.
“Excuse me, Mr. Towman.
Is my car in your tow can?”
“Why yes, we have it.
It’ll be $520 to get the outfit.”
“What? I cannot believe
I need that kinda money to retrieve…”
6:05 PM
“He said it’s at 450 7th Street.
Wasn’t there stuff in the backseat?”
“How do you use Uber?”
This has gotta be a blooper.
My phone’s dying.
I wanna start crying.
6:28 PM
Where’s the car?
I don’t see it. This is bizarre.
“Are you Marko?
We’ve had a big sorrow.”
“Oh, I know where to go.
I take so many, I’m a pro.”
“Heck, I’ve even been towed.
Get ready, cus they take all your dough.”
7:34 PM. AutoReturn. San Francisco Police Department. San Francisco, CA.
“Here’s the $520.
This has gotta be plenty.”
“There’s your car in the metal thicket,
And an additional $95 parking ticket.”
“What? A thirty-minute mistake.
Please give us a one-time-offense break.”
“I don’t have authorization
To relieve you from this citation.”
Well this just takes the cake
Now I gotta tension headache
Now, where’s the car?
I don’t see it. This is bizarre.
8:07 PM
Well, my wallets $650 lighter.
Now I’m a certified nail biter.
SF parking ain’t no disco.
Looks like its time to go.
San Fran this is how you treat your guests?
You’ll be getting our protests.
Now, where’s the plane?
The Nubern’s are on that train.
2. Intruder! Intruder!
I pulled out a box to reorganize odds and ends.
Brown pellets? When did this become a trend?
Oh, no, we have new friends!
I spent four hours following the trace.
So many pellets all over the place.
This was real. I was on an official mouse chase.
Unpacking, scouring, cleaning and scrubbing.
There’s so much poop. On what was he grubbing?
My anger is boiling. I’m ready for a slugging.
Discovery- Oh no! He made a nest.
Not in our flannel sheets in the winter chest!
Oh, that little pest!
I have to say, he does have good taste.
But, those sheets have to be replaced.
This is too much, his piled toxic waste!
Mouse poop is nothing to play.
Didn’t they carry the bubonic plague?
“Let me find him!” I prayed.
I’m after this intruder!
These aren’t old walls of a tudor.
This is a tiny RV and absolute pest excluder!
I scoured every nook and cranny.
Could it be an Annie or a Danny?
He’s lucky I couldn’t find his little fanny.
Well, did we ever find the little bugger?
Why yes, it was an ease catching this mugger.
That stinky, dumb, little sucker.
Through our laughter watching Sisters and the noisy AC
I heard a scrambling beneath me.
“Could this be him?” I thought with glee!
We turned everything off.
I held my breath not to cough.
I knew we were about to have a mouse standoff.
I silently put my ear to the cupboard
It was loud like a ruckus of buzzard!
Watch out, boy! We’re not Mother Hubbard!
I opened the door slowly not to induce
The beast to run off and be let loose
But, all we found was a cute, fury, little goose
poking his head up to see “Hey, what’s the news?”
Adam carefully took the trash box out
and quickly tied the plastic bag like takeout.
We couldn’t hurt the little sprout.
Adam let him go like a good boy scout.
I sighed relief. Done was the pursuit.
Gosh, he was so cute!
How could I have harmed the fury little newt?
I had been ready to prosecute.
“Where’d he run to, our newest pet?”
Adam pointed to the big rock next to our kitchenette.
“I’ve seen him hiding there by his tiny sillouette.”
“Oh, no,” I said “He’s still a threat.”
“He’ll be back.” My hopes crashed.
So away I went stationing a trap next to the trashed.
It’s been three days now with peanut butter and metal clashed.
I hope I won’t find him smashed.
3. Moldy Fridge
I opened the fridge with a blast to the nose
The smell of rank hit me like a blow
I saw spots of mold growing all over in trios
Thankfully there were only condiments to go
But I cleaned down those splotchy walls
Bernadette can't be smelling like bathroom stalls!
4. The Leak is Looking Bleak
We need a professional plumber
These rains from the summer
Are making us crazy.
No, we haven’t been lazy.
We can’t find the leak.
We’ve taken more than twenty peeks.
It’s not just a slow pitter patter.
It’s a serious matter.
There’s a lake forming at the the door.
To wait there is such a bore.
We gotta fill the invisible hole.
Or our heads are gonna blow.
We need a professional plumber.
These rains from the summer
Are making us crazy.
Conclusion
Poetry can be healing
When the emotions are up to the ceiling
And your brain won’t stop wheeling.
It’s joy your thoughts are stealing.
Challenges will come up spontaneously
Making hot anger your radiancy.
If you take a step back
From the anxiety attack
You see your blessings way over stack
All the current negative whack
So protect your joy and don’t let it be easily hijacked.
True stories of #nuventures. Who knew deep frustrations would lead to an outburst of poetry? I guess the pursuit of making it rhyming comedy is my coping mechanism.
How do you handle the tough moments when you feel like everything's crazy and out of control?