Not two days after that last navel-gazing, self-absorbed entry, I found out what was wrong. My stupid roof had a huge chunk out of it, and my office and kitchen ceilings were leaking. The roof was finally fixed on Friday (almost a month later). The inside still needs to be done though, and will not be done until after Christmas. Insurance is paying for all of this though, so that is a good thing, considering we had been living here for barely three months when it happened.
Just in case 2003 wasn’t enough of a life-changing year with new arrangements in home and marital status, we got a new vehicle. Okay, so it’s an old vehicle (a 95 Plymouth Voyager van) but it’s new to us, and 13 years newer than Sean’s car (which by the way is only a year younger than my sister, to put things in perspective). I am insured on this vehicle, so I may finally start to drive in the city. I drove Sean’s car less than five times in the seven years he had it. My excuse was that it was a tank and I didn’t feel in control of it. Well, I’ve driven vans before, and I like them, so now I have no excuse. Sean is going to have to go out with me the first few times so I can get used to city driving. There are so many lanes and the 401 confuses me once I get past Oshawa. I want to be able to drive myself if I want to, so I have to get over this silly fear. Driving in Toronto can’t be as scary as I think it is or no one would do it at all.
As Krusty the Clown would say: “So, have a merry Christmas, happy Chanukah, kwazy Kwanza, a tip-top Tet, and a solemn, dignified Ramadan.”