Semi-Post Apocalyptic Home

One step forward, two back. Two steps forward, one back. Progress is slow on the home front. I was told I would be able to live in my house by the 23rd of June. As a result, I did not renew the lease on the townhouse my family and I were housed.
The faithful day arrived. A beautiful day for a move. I spent the day packing out all our clothes, food and gadgets we owned. I cleaned the carpets and made sure we left the townhouse better than we found it when took up residence. I loaded the dogs and we set off to our new/old home.
On arrival, we were advised by the carpenters that the sink was clogged and we couldn't use the kitchen sink or our brand new dishwasher. It apparently was not their job to fix drains. We were also advised that the electricians had not reconnected the power to the rest of our home.
My wife quickly called the head contractor. He said that the electricians would be there in a couple of hours to restore power to the rest of the house. At least we had power to the air conditioner.
Three hours later, the electricians arrived. They informed us that they could not in good conscious reconnect our house because the wiring was not up to code. Being men of apparent very good conscious, not only did they not reconnect the rest of the house, they de-energized the only part that had power.
With no sleep, I headed to work my midnight shift and my family went to a motel. Next day, we regroup over breakfast. I called our insurance company to arrange for temporary housing for three days (that's how long the electricians with very good conscious said it would take). The department that handled housing said they would contact our adjuster and see if he would approve three nights in a motel.
Two hours later, no word from the insurance company. I've had one hours sleep. Time to check out (we don't have the funds to stay longer on our own).
New plan. The kids go to their grandparents for a couple weeks, the dogs go to a friends house for a couple days and we (my wife and I) return to the disaster that is our home. At least the head contractor restored power to the kitchen and AC.
If I want power I run an extension cord from the kitchen. If I want water, I go upstairs to the bathroom. Don't go barefoot! There are carpet staples all over the bare wood floor (OUCH!).
The Universe is kicking us in the groin, but we just keep smiling and calmly say "Thank you sir! May I have another?" We refuse to give in to this bully.
Friday is supposed to be a big day. Kitchen furniture is being delivered, electricity is supposed to be fully restored and the carpet layers are coming. If all that happens I'll kiss my own ass!
This is Goader reporting from the trenches.
Remember, "Keep smiling! It really pisses the Universe off."

Flanked

The CFB attack yestereday was just a diversionary tactic of the Universe. Though we were all exhaused, we fought off wave after wave of long range calls and short range emergencies. We thought this was the main push. We were wrong.
I get off work, tired but satisfied that I had won a great battle. I get to the remains of my home, which I thought was recovering nicely. Turns out, I only get to have power in my kitchen. The Universe convinced the contractors that my entire home, plus the heating/cooling unit were all ran through three fuses in an antiquated fuse box. The contractors tell me that they cannot turn on power to the rest of my sub-standardly wired house. No power, no A/C.
Meanwhile, Frank returns from a transport to Duke University to find that his keys have been abducted by agents of the Universe. Frank is force to pay an exhorberant fee to have a copy of his truck key made. Frank retired to his base of operations so he could rest and refit.
My wife and I soldiered on with help of Vitamin X. Painting our downstairs by the small glowing circle of a work lamp, we continued to prepare our home for reoccupation. I am sure we did a good job despite the unusual working conditions. Then again, we could have been influenced by the mood enhancers.
The day was not a total loss. I took possession of my replacement transportation. A 2001 Pontiac Aztec in very good condition.
This has been a Goader report from life's front lines.
Mood holding strong. Tomorrow is another battle. Don't give in my comrades, keep fighting. Just remember:
SMILE! It really pissed the Universe off!

Chaos County EMS

I am have a great week. Push back at the Universe. Now the Universe is trying a new tactic.
Introduce the Cluster Fuck Bomb. Since I am defending against head on attacks, the Universe in it's frustration is attacking my job. The CFB has caused the EMS system to be overloaded with transports. We have called in reserve troops but we still are struggling.
We have sent squads to Chicago, Lexington, Bluefield, Columbus, Cleveland and now Duke. All this in addition to the usual take home and lest we forget, the 911 calls (our primary concern). Yet despite all the crews shake ups, emergency sick leaves and assorted mechanical anomalies, we are still holding our own.

As my temporary partner and I head toward Paintsville, Ky, I only have one thing to say. BRING IT BITCH!!

This is Goader reporting from the battle zone. Always remember:
Smile! It really pisses the Universe off!
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Damnitall!

The war goes poorly. The Universe is still on the offensive. The Resistance is on the ropes, but still fighting.

My friend and ally, Lee has taken some hard hits lately. My condolences. Now get back into the fight and give the Universe some grief.

A new ally has been brought into the war. Frank, my partner at work, was attack. The Universe tried to disable he mobility by crushing his trucks transmission. Welcome to the war.

My end of the war is still in chaos. The Universe threw a kamakazee teenager in a sedan against the side of my ambulance. This resulted in me slamming into the cabinets. On the night, my trucks battery died while my friends tried to shuttle me and my truck to my temporary base of operations. Got my battery fixed on the following Monday. Tuesday, headgasket blows. I am now limping along hoping to find a cheap replacement.
Monday (one week later), I am heading to class. A very nice Chesapeake police officer pulls me over. At that precise moment I realize that when my wife picked up the clean laundry from me, I sent my dirty uniform with her including my wallet. After a very informative lecture from CPD's finest, I am given a piece of paper notifying me of that my tags are expired. I sign the paper and as a reminder, least I forget, I am fortunate enough to be allow to give $118 to the town of Chesapeake, Ohio for this safety lecture.

It is time for the Resistance to regroup, recruit and retaliate. Join the Resistance, quit letting the Universe slap you around. For those already engaged in this conflict, I say, dig in and give it hell!
This report has been authenticated by Goader.
Remember,
SMILE! It really pisses the Universe off!
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T