Relative Something

This is how it goes: I wrote at length in yesterday’s post about the weeds I found in the lawn when I mowed Wednesday evening. With minimal forethought, moments after I woke yesterday morning, I looked at the weather forecast. The prediction was for a chance of isolated thunderstorms all week. It was less than a 50% chance, and the radar looked clear to the west. I decided to take that chance.

I sprouted into action and rushed out to apply the fertilizer/weed control that we had purchased. The instructions stress to apply only when a period of 24 hours without rain is anticipated. I had just a few minutes available to get it done and still make it to work at a decent hour. With my intense work load lately, both at home and at the day-job, sneaking this in before work would be a real plus for me.

I had only been at work for a short while when an employee approached to show me the radar image on his phone and warn me that we were about to get a strong downpour. Yep, the orange/yellow blob on his display reached well down to the location of my yard on the map.

I lost that gamble.

This is the other way it goes: Last night, I needed to find some documents to provide to our lender who is determining what amount we qualify for, and get us pre-approved. I was lucky to be able to catch Cyndie with our FaceTime app. While I had her on the line, I tried to give her a tour of the last two bedrooms, with their fresh, new carpet. It was too dark to show. I asked Cyndie where I might find the needed documents. She was able to direct me to the pile we had created in the basement, of furniture and belongings.

After some rearranging, I reached the tote which held the key pieces we needed. I found our W2s right away. I had no luck with a pay stub for Cyndie in Boston. I called her back and re-confirmed what I was searching for. She pulled out an example of one she had on file, and held it in front of the iPad camera to show me what I was looking for. I searched through the whole bin, repeatedly licking my finger to move each and every piece of paper. Because I don’t trust myself enough, I did it a second time, to be sure.

Coming up empty, I composed a text message to alert Cyndie that she would need to scan one and send it to me. Then I began putting the papers from the W2s, which I pulled out first thing, back into the bin. Of course, that is when I found the pay stub I had been searching for all along.

I texted an addendum that I’m hoping Cyndie will find before she goes through the trouble to hunt for a scanner tomorrow.