real problems

and now for the rest of the story.

so on monday, after the parking lot incident my day was full.  we returned home.  parked the car. used bleach water on as much as possible including the car and my hands... yes, my hands. everything smelled of bleach.  the sky was blue.  it was approaching 80 degrees.

the rest of the day was filled with cleaning and caring and washing and cleaning and caring.

a small incident when vacuuming a corner with the attachment when the cord stuck.  i turned to yank the cord only to hear an awful sound.  i turned again to realize i had started vacuuming the fish take. thankfully, i missed the fish.  then there was the sweeper full of water to deal with but i'll spare you that part.

around 6pm i even fell asleep for 15 minutes on the couch.

a small incident of me tripping over the dog lead and landing squarely, forcefully, and gracefully on my knee caps was another delightful event but every day must end and of course it did with wonderful winds sweeping through the house.  beautiful air that smelled like rain.

and then the storm.  the storm that drenched the ground and whipped trees around like floss.

at 11:30 when we were preparing the house and ourselves to bed i heard the panicked voice say 'K*ss*ndra!'

in all the hustle and bustle i had forgotten to close my car windows.

and standing on the steps looking at a tall bearded with a 'what are we going to do expression' all i could do was laugh, uncontrollably.  i had no energy to do anything else.

now you can imagine a panicked man and a giggling woman dragging car seats out of the car to dry in the dining room at midnight.  thank goodness for removable covers that can go in the dryer.  

hizzle let the car heat run until 1:30 in the morning, good man.  i went to bed giggling

and i parked the car in the sunshine the next day to let it bake.  

hizzle says we need f*breeze.  okay. whatever.... because it hits me.....what do i care?

the uglier my car the less the chance of theft?

safe and running are my concerns.

point a to point b moving non-suv being granola mom wagon is my ticket.  

i don't care if it smells like cheese.

who wants to break into a mom mini wagon with scuffs, the newest in 90's cd cases full of kids songs and the faint scent of gouda? 

the only person i can think of is a desperately hungry homeless man who wants to eat the spilled pretzels from the floor.

so i guess i'll take it.  every once in a while i'll roll down the windows to get the parmesan out.

i could say i'm tired, exhausted, that i haven't even thought about hair or makeup or clothes that can't be cleaned with bleach but there are people on the other side of the world with real problems; life or death problems.  and people here in the u.s. with other problems, real problems.  i can't get upset over another page from this comic strip life.  but i can buy myself a box of cookies and stress eat them while watching an expose in the chicken industry.... fyi treat meat like toxic waste.  bleach bleach bleach.  if it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger applies to the life of bacteria too.

addendum:  i just found bird poop in the inside door handle of the drivers side front seat.  just in case you thought it couldn't get any more comical.