We go through life hearing the phrase, “another day, another dollar.” That is fine during the monotony of life, when everything just blends together. When you’ve had a catastrophic even happen, however, another day is a big deal. Then again, it could be, “another day, another pain.” Today was still rough. It is still rough. If I look some people in the face, or someone tells me they are sorry for my situation, I just start crying. I can’t speak. These days drag on; they seem like they go on forever.

I spent a lot of the day getting shit done. I mowed the grass. It needed mowed weeks ago, but I just haven’t had time. Driving her to work every day, getting ready for my youngest’s birthday, researching cars and houses, dealing with work issues, waiting for it not to rain, and just being fucking exhausted, I just couldn’t find the time to mow. I started fixing the driveway. I couldn’t finish because it was too wet. In order to blade the driveway, it needs to be mostly dry, and I need about 3 hours of going back and forth with the box blade on the tractor. I installed a temporary camera system in the garage that still has power, just in case anyone decides to take advantage of a fucked up house. I also fixed the water line in the barn. It isn’t 100%, but it’s better.

The house is a fucking mess. Between the fire, the water damage from the firefighters putting out the fire, the objects thrown all over the place from the fight that started it all, and the general disorganization of the house, it’s a mess. I can’t start cleaning it up until I have power. That will hopefully be restored on Monday. I can’t touch the basement until the insurance investigators show up and are done. I have my work cut out for me though. I need to wash every fucking item of clothing to attempt to get the smoke smell out. That sounds easy enough once I get power, but the drain pipe for the washer was damaged in the fire. I’m not sure if I can wash clothes once I have power.

Throw all of this into the massive pile of shit I’m already dealing with, and it’s a miracle I survived another day. Trying to run a company (or two), a farm, and a household isn’t easy. Ya can’t be a pussy and survive. Just because I break down sometimes, doesn’t mean I’m a pussy; it means I’m human. We all have our breaking points. I’m not done breaking. I’m not done crying for what was lost and what could have been. I’m not done fighting for another day.