||[Sep. 9th, 2011|12:04 pm]
To make up for the mean-spiritedness of the previous post: |
1. One deliciously ironic article (make sure you get to the end to see WHY he had so many dogs):
2. Two inches of rain in the basement. To which I said, after an hour of shop-vacc’ing, without making much of a dent, Expletive You, drain when you want to, I’m tired. And shut the basement door. Hey, more stuff that I can just look at and think “Eww, I’m throwing you out, you piece of moldy whatever!” instead of having to make some kind of complicated judgment call as to whether I really NEED it or not.
3. Three things at which I am surprisingly incompetent:
Opening a pump container. Really. Standing there in the bathroom with the new bottle of hand soap or lotion, or whatever, twirling the damn pump fixture around and around, head tilted, eyes closed, desperately trying to feel that slight lack of resistance that will tell me “Here, HERE, now is when you stop and I will pop up and be ready to pump.” I’m pretty sure that getting a new bottle of hand soap going should be more like opening a box of Kleenex and less like opening a safe, but somehow, for me, it doesn’t seem to be. I have been known to pour the contents of the new bottle into the old bottle just so that I don’t have to endure the humiliation.
Putting on a bra. I am almost 50 years old and I STILL have to put it on backwards and swing it around. While I can get my arms behind me to unhook it...thanks to several high school boyfriends for THAT lesson...I can’t seem to get it hooked in the first place. Not without cursing and getting a pectoral cramp, anyway.
Putting on new windshield wiper blades. Look, I hang on to my cars forever. You would think that in ten years, I would have changed them often enough that I would develop a familiarity with them. Nope. Each time I do it, it’s like caveman-discovers-fire. I think I keep trying to make it more complicated. Once I had a car where I had to use all of the adapters and it WAS really hard, even for normal people. I guess I’ve never quite recovered from that. Although I have no explanation for why once I do get one on, I have to completely rediscover the process to put the other one on. Putting on the other side…will take me almost as long to figure out as did the first side. Which, for someone who scores very high in mental rotation, is traumatic. There is an easy solution – go to the auto parts store and be a GIRL. But I did that once, and felt a little dirty. Although I would do it again. Now – I just need to find an auto parts store where there’s a GUY working up front, because the last two times it’s been a woman and well, weakness in front of my own kind? Screw it, I’ll take 20 minutes of cursing and feeling mentally deficient in the privacy of my own driveway.