Chelsea and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

I hate to gripe... but I'm griping, because sometimes there is only a fine line standing between you and a three year old's temper tantrum kicking and screaming in aisle 5. Yes, it's been a rough day. Have you moved to a new place recently? If so, you probably are very aware of how challenging it is. It's ping pong between being entirely excited about being in a new place, doing new things, meeting new people and dealing with all the minute details and glitches of moving your life and everything to do with your life to a new place. It's been fantastic thus far, I'm back at the beach which is amazing, I'm with my sister which is fantastic, I have a whole new market to spread my work. It feels so good, so fresh. But then there's the bullshit: changing health insurance (amidst a health problem), changing addresses, changing banks, registering my business (nobody likes going to town hall). Automatic bill pay seems like the greatest gift, until you have to change everything to a new bank, then it's your greatest nightmare. I have a bank check waiting to deposit in my business bank account, which I can't open until I register my business, which I can't register until I have a lease and proof of residency, a lease which I can't sign until I have a check to pay the deposit with, checks that I have been waiting for from the bank for the past two weeks. It's like I am trying to run with 50 lb weights around my ankles- or should I say 150 lb people from the administrative units that I am working with.

So my life has become ping pong, one hour I'm pouring new creative energy into my business (love), next thing I'm on the phone for an hour with the insurance company explaining to them that I want to pay them, but I can't because I currently have no bank account (hate), then I break and go for a walk to the beach (sweet relief), then come back home to another bill that cannot be paid (wtf). I've been going with it though, continuously meditating on the fact that this is just human problems that need to be dealt with in order to get to the sweeter side of life. Then my car starts making a funny noise, but for the next few days I have no other ride than myself, much less having absolutely no idea who to call. The sound quickly goes from kinda-bad to horrible. Even someone like me who has no clue where to start with cars (I know where the tires and the engine are. That's a good start, right?) now realizes that something is terribly wrong. So someone finally checks it out and declares that this is a bad situation, i.e. an expensive situation. Wanting to be proactive I immediately run into the house and look up phone numbers to call. Yay- they can get me in right now. I'll be there in ten minutes. Within a few minutes of hanging up the phone I hear this loud machine going outside. I try to open the door only to see that they are power washing the apartments, my hall first, then work their way down, I live on the third floor. So I proceed to pace the apartment for 45 minutes listening to the power washer, inhaling the bleach and other chemicals they are spray, desperately trying to get out just so that I can deal with my other problem of an un-drivable car with a major problem that is going to cost a pretty penny to fix at a time that I don't have any work.

Does anyone else think it's somewhat humorous that my breaks are shot so I can't really "stop," yet I'm stuck in my apartment so I can't really "go" either? Wtf. Energetically these two weeks have felt like I am in a stand-still. First I thought it was all in my head, but now it's a reality. All I can say is, I hope I've paid the piper and can finally pass "Go" and get on with my life. I need brakes to stop, but I also want to move forward... with speed... towards AwesomeTown... waiving both middle fingers at car-problems-ville, knee-problems-ton, bankers-burg. See-ya suckers, I've got better places to head to!