On election night, while I was trying very hard not to focus on returns and still stay positive, there was a helluva crash from the glorified closet where the washer and dryer live. I don't have a laundry room, and I don't mind, because most of my 1400+ square foot condo is devoted to actual living space. No McMansion laundry area here, the washer/dryer live behind bifold doors with two shelves above. For some reason Ellie decided that she'd like to visit those shelves on Tuesday and it ended badly, with a huge crash and stuff falling and she was under the bed for an hour and will never do that again. And I picked up the visible things and didn't think much of it, until Wednesday.
Wednesday was not a good day. See profanity laden screed below. But I needed to do a small load of laundry, and was about to throw these items (like new Target jammies, because I'm definitely not rich) into the top load washer when I noticed shiny things. All over the machine's floor. In Ellie's exploration of the shelves, she'd knocked down one of those plastic clamshell kind of containers of small picture hanging nails, and about 200 of them landed in my washing machine. The tub of my washing machine was essentially full of shrapnel that would destroy anything it touched and kill the machine on the way out. I'm grateful that I saw it and didn't just dump an armload of stuff in on top and blithely turn it on.
And I stood there, staring at the tiny nails, taking deep breaths. And I didn't freak out. I grabbed a couple of kitchen magnets, found one that efficiently fit the shape of the washer's tub, and patiently, very patiently, collected a bazillion tiny nails, and ran a cycle of water through just in case, and then felt save to wash my clothes again.
Tonight she got into my knitting and made me drop two rows in the middle of a freaking afghan. I patiently unknit and reknit a couple of hundred stitches, and am now moving forward.
The last two days are the first times Ellie has ever actively made me fix anything she did. She's pretty much a feline saint otherwise, but somehow now she forced me to take a breath, find my calm, find a solution, and fix things.
Yeah, I think she's in my life for a reason. But I'm still not ready to make nice. I just have a model for moving forward.