Hit me, baby, one more time...

Ever noticed how long it takes you, after being away for a while, to get back to the way you were before you left?  How long does it take for life to wipe that smile off your face once you're back?  How fast do you feel stress getting to you or how quickly the benefits of being away from it all disappear upon your return home?  That perma-smile doesn't last that long once back in daily life.  I can now confirm it.  It doesn't take that much, or rather that long to feel a known rush of stress.

Last week, Hubby and I drove to New Hampshire for the week.  A little get away, just the two of us.  Turns out, that the chosen location was actually very remote and there wasn't really much to do around there.  Given that my foot (still) hurts, hiking was out, and since we don't really golf that was out as well.  The nearest town was about 30 minutes away, and there wasn't much there either.  Thankfully, we were lucky with the weather and had a gorgeous week, an actual heat wave, and even luckier there was a pool at the resort.  So, for the week, we slept in, and lounge at the pool.  We rested.

We drove home Saturday.  It was a nice drive,

the one the Saturday before; it rained all the way.  While Hubby was unpacking the car, I made my way in the house, to realize that something wasn't quite right.  I looked around and noticed a spot on our kitchen tiles.  Oh no, crap, something leaked.  I couldn't quite tell where it came from, until I saw the ceiling above the cabinets. Crap!  I'm thinking "this is not good... this is not good!" as I make my way to our office.  As I walked in I see another spot on the floor, the hard wood floor.  I look at the ceiling to see it a joint all puffed up... as I'm looking at this, I also notice the wall and closet doors are all streaked... "oh no, what now?" That is when I opened the doors to find the self ripped off the wall, water dripping.  That closet is where I've kept all my books.  I'm actually remaining calm, until I start to make my way downstairs to meet up the unsuspecting husband to let him know that while we were away, relaxing in the sun of NH, our condo was being flooded again, for the third time.  Let's just say that the shit hit the fan, fast.

We didn't even unpack our luggage, started to look at what happened, contacted our neighbors who did confirm that yes they had a water leak, some problem with the thermo-pump that their owner/landlord had not fix... I took pictures of everything and then, with Hubby help started emptying that closet. That is one big closet and it contained a LOT of shit, let me tell you.

I've contacted the Syndic, to have the insurance appraisal for the repairs, which will not be minimum.  Our kitchen is seriously damaged; our cabinets are warped, and the tracks of the shelves are not working correctly, the hard wood floor is warped as well, the laundry closet, behind the appliances has a bubbling wall and the office's ceiling and floor is warped... so...

Let's just say we are not happy campers.  Not at all.  Our house is a big fucking mess at the moment, while we wait for people to come and see and evaluate and tell us what will happen and when... so frustrating..  We are both fed up.  Ready to snap we are wind so tight... not good, not good at all!