The trip to the beach on Sunday was planned. For weeks. The spontaneous addition of Saturday came about an hour before we left. The person who was renting the condo cancelled. It was vacant for the weekend. I just had to wait for the clothes to dry. It was very relaxing. We ate good food. We shopped. Okay, mostly I window shopped because of my lack of funds, but Kenny did buy me the dress I had my eye on. And? The girls? Yeah, the cleaned up. New flip-flops and dolls and necklaces and carriage rides. Spoiled little things. But mostly, they just wanted to play on the beach. I read, they splashed in the water and collected seashells, and Kenny alternated between sitting in a chair and boogie boarding. Fun.
But all good things must end. I noticed the sound when we walked in the door.
"Fridge is out again." I know this sound well. We have killed the fridge five times in the short span on a year-and-a-half that we have lived here. Kenny refused to believe it. "No way," he said. I gave him the look. I knew it would go out. Especially because I am having a slight money panic. I have a lot coming up. A baby shower to throw, my reunion. Last month was Jill's birthday, and I just bought new shoes and such for the lessons the girls are taking this summer. When we went to bed last night, it was still making the sound, but working just fine. Maybe I was wrong.
Emmi got up this morning. She demanded her usual. "PANCAKE!" I opened the freezer. Warm. Not even cool. Everything ruined. Hundreds of dollars of groceries. The fridge itself is under warranty, but I am feed up with the company we bought it through that refuses to give us a new one. Just keeps "fixing" the one we have, only to have it break a few months later. They are bringing out a loaner fridge in an hour. For what?! I have NO GROCERIES LEFT! Nothing to store in this loaner fridge. Thanks a fucking lot. Your loaner fridge really helps me out.
Fuck this. I want to go back to the beach.