Repair Anxiety

Today the repairman is scheduled to return to our house to repair our fridge. Even though we were all tired and grumpy from the oppressive heatwave, last night's family activity was purging and cleaning. It took us over an hour to get rid of the expired food, half eaten tubs of dip and lone pickles that had been hiding in the recesses of our fridge.  Our freezer was littered with single hot dogs and assorted veggies that had somehow escaped their packaging. Between the freezer and the refrigerator, we filled three giant trash bags.  

After the food was relocated to either the trash can or the refrigerator and freezers downstairs, we turned our efforts to cleaning. Well, I turned my attention to cleaning. The boys retreated to the bedroom as soon as the last frozen pizza was put away. I was disgusted by the gunk that had accumulated on the shelves and within the bins!

I'll be glad when the repair is complete. The loud humming coming from the motor has been driving me batty. I feel like I am being taunted by the constant reminder that it is broken. Silence will surely be golden when everything is fixed.

Even though I'm looking forward to the repair being completed and my kitchen returning to its normal state of clutter and chaos, I am not looking forward to hosting the repairman today. I hate having people in the house when I am home alone. (The fact that Timmy is also home offers little solace.) Whenever somebody unknown is in the house I feel uneasy and paranoid.

The fact that I am an amputee definitely contributes to my uneasiness. If somebody wanted to hurt me, I worry that I'm an easy target. Even though I am strong and have taken self-defense courses, I can't help but feel vulnerable by my prosthesis.  

I hate feeling this way.