House on the road!

I now know when I've officially lost my cool.

It doesn't come in the form of an insane rant.

I don't go postal and start shooting.

It would seem when I just can't take anymore, I crack into hysterics.

In Halifax, after spending the night on a hide-a-bed in a conference room, Tara and I wound up at the call centre in which we were to work for 4 weeks (in a strip mall next to a Dollarama after spending $32 one way on a cab and then finding out no one actually came into work for another five hours). I laughed until tears rolled down my cheeks and Tara looked on in horror, surely wondering how she would tolerate working beside such a freak for a whole month.

Tonight was another classic. Over the last few days, nothing has gone right. My Mom would be quick to tell you it's due to the fact Mercury is in Retrograde, making all sorts of bizarre things happen. But tonight, after - well, let's just say A LOT of stuff over the past week, I started laughing. Hard.

After work, I got in my car to find the fan was not working again. So, no heat. In Canada. In winter. WTF? So, I put on the blue mittens Mom insisted I take with me, bundled up and figured I would brave the trip with the windows open to prevent the windshield from fogging up. It was, after all, only a 15 minute drive.

Only, there was a house in the road. A house that apparently had broken free of the flat bed. Somehow, this ambitious little house had made its way into the opposite lane. In the intersection. Screwing up traffic in, miraculously, all directions.

And so, the 15 minute drive became a 45 minute snail race. I made it past one house on the road to find another one not a few yards away, going 2 km/h in an 80 zone.

It was freaking HILARIOUS! I'm not an advocate of talking on a cell phone while driving (in fact, it's horrible, don't ever do it or may a rain shower of frogs fall on you), but since I was at a dead stop anyhow, I thought I would call... well, a bunch of people.

The word "raving lunatic" came out once, and I spent a while trying to convince a few people that I had actually gone to the gym after work and not a bar as they believed. It was not the house, after all, that was the crazy part. It was how incredibly FUNNY the whole thing was.

Later, I had some Glenlivet and defrosted and decorated Mom's Christmas Tree with her while listening to Bing Crosby, who, as far as I'm concerned, is the quintessential voice of Christmas. (Strangely, if you click the link to Bing above, it comes up with the exact album cover of the CD we were listening to...)

The whiskey and Bing have made me normal again. I realize a house in the road is not funny at all, and neither were the 45 minutes I spent behind it. I should not have been scouring the pavement through the darkness looking for ruby slippers or cracking jokes like "hey buddy, I think you dropped something..." I blame temporary insanity mixed with subzero temperatures. After all, runaway houses are no laughing matter.