These are days to (not) remember.

I'm not sure how it's possible that in one month your furnace breaks and then your washing machine goes kaput. A few days later, you find out you have to have $2,800 in repairs to your chimney.

And then this on a Wednesday morning, when it is 34 degrees outside:

Meg X, screaming from the shower where she is being bombarded by shards of ice as she rinses her hair: "Holy hell, why do you have to flush the toilet when I am bathing?"

Dr. X, yelling back: "I'm not even in the bathroom!"

So, yes, during the most frigid time of year in our mostly tropical city, we are without hot water. For three days. Currently, we are waiting on a part from India (where it's probably warm right now) to arrive and return us to the 21st century.

I hate to complain. I am fully aware there are very poor people, even in my own country, without water, hot or otherwise. What I am complaining about is my recent run of just flat-out bad luck.

To put the cherry on top, I got a bill yesterday from a rather depressing doctor's appointment. Said doctor did nothing to help me, and in fact told me to just wait it out, and now wants to charge me $160 since she turned in an incorrect diagnosis to my insurance company.

Hello, God? It's me, Meg. Can you cut me some slack, dude? I know, I know... At least I have my (relatively) good health. And my family is a-OK. You've given me Robbie P, too, but I'm going to need a little bit more to go on in future.

Thanks.