Any time I have traveled to the States from Israel, my own version of Murphy's Law states that at least several crises must occur at the most inconvenient times before the trip.
So they started the construction last week, destroying my sanity, my ability to work and my desire to be in my home. At the moment, that has been suspended, though any day now the contractor can call me and let me know that they have resolved their legal issues (they got caught trying to steal land from the common property of the building) and will start again with the drills and the hammers.
Then my cell phone died, I could barely hear conversations and got migraines after using it. The last thing I wanted to do was brave the traffic and the pre-Pessach mall frenzy, but I went and got the phone fixed, as modern tech is a lifeline in these modern times.
Yesterday, Harry came home and stayed inside (odd). He tried to use the litter box in the house (even odder) and could not produce (scary odd). Today he is lethargic and is moaning in pain, all symptoms that his brother Sarel experienced before he died suddenly, when I was seven months pregnant. Tonight I must find a sitter and bring Harry to the veterinarian, to see if he is too far gone and must be put to sleep, or if he can be saved.
Because possibly losing Harry is exactly how I wanted to go into my vacation. I had rather hoped that Harry would be around long enough for Raphaela to learn and speak his name.
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