Laughing My Way Through Fire

Reflections

They say moving is a top life stressor. They were right. We are preparing our home of 20 years for a quick sale so that Briarhopper Ranch can trade Colorado’s peaks for Kentucky’s green. One exceptionally hot day in August brought me almost to my breaking point. Attempting to work through the chaos, I set up a makeshift office for me and the dogs on the back deck. I was trying to hold it together, taking my scheduled meetings and knocking out deliverables. “Oh, you’re working outside today, how nice!” <insert chain saw noise, turkey gobbling, roosters crowing, dogs barking and a UPS truck arriving>

Here are some key highlights:

Small army of painters: Our interior painters, admirably, wanted to get the job done quickly. I expected a 3-4 man crew over several days. Instead, I was invaded by a 12-man army taking over every room in my home. Doors and windows were open, letting in heat and flies. They set up a makeshift kitchen on my front porch, complete with a microwave oven plugged into an outdoor outlet. I encountered a worker using my master suite water closet (I turned off the light and fan in a fit of orneriness, leaving him confused in the dark). The crew piled all of our furniture into a Jenga tower in the middle of each room, draped and taped everything, and then left for the night. We ended up sleeping on the floor on camping gear.

Forestry machinery madness: Our arborists arrived to remove a large dead tree and do some general fire mitigation as is beneficial in the semi-arid Rocky Mountain West. Two men, each armed with chainsaws, driving a remote-controlled woodchipper around the back corner of our acreage, made quite the ruckus. The constant hum of chainsaws almost became a soothing background sound. Every time they fired up the woodchipper, the turkey would gobble and the roosters would crow, like some demented farm symphony.

Crimson glory: I had just about settled into trying to conduct business on an overheated laptop with shrinking shade and panting dogs when the backdoor flew open. Out stumbled the bathroom remodeler, looking gray and faint, cradling his hand. He explained that he stabbed himself with an X-acto blade (I think that’s what he said, anyhow) and blood was spurting out of his mangled paw with each heartbeat as he clutched one of the painter’s filthy work shirts to stem the flow.

My Solution

Can things get any crazier? I found out the next morning when I realized my tire was completely flat (revenge of the X-acto blade?) at 6:15 AM leaving the gym, I just laughed. I mean, a full, maniacal laugh. Who cares, did anyone else hear me? Our savings account is basically on fire prepping this place for sale, I’ve had to quarter a small army of painters, conducted meetings with 100 decibel background noise and comforted a fainting tradesman refusing medical care as his blood pulsed from his hand.

Your Key Takeaway

When things get this wild, you just have to laugh. Pray, manage your stress, and take care of yourself, but don’t forget to find the humor in it all. Life has its seasons, and some are just sheer madness. Maintain your sense of humor, keep it light, and avoid the downward spiral. You’ll get through it, and someday you’ll look back and laugh about the three-ring circus you somehow survived.