Aren’t we always picking up the pieces of some fine mess to restore a semblance of balance?

In last week’s blog I brought up the subject of a rectangular incision the maintenance man cut in my bathroom ceiling, leaving a gaping hole for him to determine the origin of a leak. Although he carted away the big chunks, I picked up the pesky pieces left behind.

This week I’ll be picking up the pieces rained down from the installation of ceiling drywall. Once the follow-up cleaning is done, I’ll pick up all of the belongings I had to move out of the bathroom and put them in their rightful place.

A glutton for punishment, I’m contemplating a move by the end of next June to an upgraded apartment in this building, on the same floor and the same side toward the bay. If not forthcoming, I’ll either wait or pursue other properties in the area managed by this company.

So, little by little, I’ve started picking up the pieces from conducting a massive purge and donating the proceeds of extraneous stuff. I’ve only just begun. Then, at a leisurely pace, I’ll begin packing nonessential items.

Picking up the pieces is as much a work in progress, as the Contemporary I’m finishing with a quota of approximately 1,000 words, more or less, in each chapter. I’m currently drafting the last chapter—82. Then, I’ll include a short epilogue in this stand-alone novel.

*More important in the grand scheme of life—picking ourselves up after setbacks, disappointments, or failures. It’s what we do to restore balance.

My sincere appreciation if you’ve read this far.

Eva’s Authors Den Page: https://tinyurl.com/yycm7d2w