Last week I heard that there were terrible winds in Joshua Tree. By terrible, I mean that my tenant says he thought the winds were going 70 m.p.h. all night long. It wasn’t a good night to be out either, because apparently roof tiles were blowing off roofs like crazy.
And although I get a bad rap for exaggerating, I think that the the word “crazy” is fitting for having 600 square feet of tile blow off my house alone.
That’s right, 600 square feet.
And yes, my house is insured, but I understand that it is much worse to have a claim on my record and have my house insurance go up than to just swallow the $1145 in roofing bills. (I have a $1000 deductible anyway…)
Then yesterday I brought my car in for a routine check-up: 60,000 mile inspection. What with the rat’s nest they found in the air filter (must be a leftover desert rat), my brakes totally shot, and all the drive belts needing replacing; well, that came to $1600 as well.
And then we’ll be seeing a midwife on Friday, and THAT will be a (worthwhile) chunk o’ cash. (Some of it may be covered by our insurance, but we’ll have to pay for the deductible first seeing as how we’ve just started a new year.)
I guess San Francisco was my last hurrah; it’s the worker bee’s life for me until this baby is born.
I’m not complaining, but I am considering asking for a raise.