Hi. Wouldn’t it be nice if I put up a post that wasn’t begging for votes or indulging in self-pity over a bunch of nothing? (Teenage angst is so 1980s.)
Well, huh, too bad I have nothing to say. My biggest accomplishment of the day was putting away seven baskets of folded laundry, including socks. I actually matched up the socks that languished in the Sock Basket . . . no matter how much laundry I wash, I always have several dozen unmatched socks, leading me to question the symmetry of the universe.
Also, you should know that I inadvertently trained my crooked-tail cat to race to the front door at the sound of the doorbell. Talk about a stupid pet trick. Our cats are indoors-only cats, but this one sneaks out the front door at every opportunity, then immediately panics and begins to bang at the screen to be let back in. But, ding-dong, the doorbell rings and the cat runs to the front door. I’m forever nudging that cat away from the door with my foot while standing in the doorway talking to a neighbor.
What is distressing about my life at the moment (oh dear, more angst popping up) is how the universe continually collapses on itself. Nothing stays as it should . . . at the moment, I see five pairs of shoes scattered on the floor (only one pair belongs to me) and a bicycle helmet. I didn’t get the dishes from dinner washed because I had to rush out of the house to a meeting (of sorts, a sort-of-meeting). Tomorrow, I’ll start the day with my house in some disarray, which will drive me crazy, but that alone does not motivate me to want to deal with anything tonight. Why can’t things just stay where I put them? Why can’t clean things stay clean? Why, for the love of Pluto, can’t the couch cushions stay arranged on the couch instead of in a haphazard pile?
I know. I know. Kids. I’ll miss these kids when they’re gone. Yeah, whatever. If so, I’ll just go over to their homes and drink out of three different glasses, leave them stuck in a sticky ring on the coffee table, take off my socks, roll them into balls and toss them in corners and lose the remote control. Then I will put an empty milk carton in the refrigerator, smear my fingerprints all over the patio door and pee on the toilet seat.
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Now, time to vote. Go, click on my picture (M. Helms, scroll down a little) and voila! I’m a little closer to winning $500! Thanks! (You can vote once a day.)