Thursday, April 10, 2008

Life In The Fat Lane

I swear to God this has been the dumbest day. I am trying to unpack the last few boxes from the move and I am stressing about it. Two abrupt moves in one year do not make for organized packing. The boxes are full of paper stuff and family mementos crammed in from the first move, and which were never unpacked. I am now trying to go through all this stuff. We have zero storage space left so I can't keep most of it. It is driving me nuts trying to decide what to pitch and what to keep.

Next weekend we are hosting a group of couples from our church. I am also stressed out about this. I am trying to make this sow's ear of a house look like a silk purse with limited time and finances before the event. Hence my unpacking frenzy.

So I was not in the most cheerful frame of mind when the cat peed on the dog's bed this morning. I caught her in the act. I began hollering like a mad women as the urine had soaked through the bed and onto the newly cleaned carpets. (We spent last weekend cleaning them with an industrial carpet cleaner.) I grabbed the cat and carried her downstairs hollering, "You go potty in your box." The other cat apparently hearing and fearing those familiar words streaked past me on the stairs on her way to the box. Of course I fell over her. I got banged and bruised but nothing is broken. The cat lept to safety before I fell. I could swear she looked vindicated.

Okay so I hauled my mangled body back upstairs and tried to get on with my day. First on the list was to wash the dog bed. I stuffed it in the washer, poured soap on it and went about my business. Of course the washer overbalanced and stopped. When I opened the washer the dog bed was in a wad and I couldn't straighten it out. So I got a laundry basket , lined it with a garbage bag and then proceeded to try to pull this sopping wet heavy ball of material out of the washer. In my struggle with the wad my wedding ring slipped off and went plunk into the dirty soapy water. I am crying in frustration by now. I hauled the dog bed out of the washer and got water everywhere. I then stuck my arm in the washer and fished around looking for the ring. At this point I decided to take off my sweatshirt so it wouldn't get wet.

I was up to my armpits in water when the doorbell rang. The dog promptly went nuts and tipped over the laundry basket with the sopping dog bed in it. Tipped it over onto my sweatshirt laying on the floor. I was in the laundry room and to get to the door I would have to cross in front of an uncurtained window. The only thing I could find to put on was one of Mark's ratty old tee shirts he wears to paint. It was the Schwan's man. I needed a whole host of stuff so putting the worry about my ring on hold I proceeded to place an order. Our Schwan guy is young. He is usually very friendly and jokey. I try to be the same. Today he was friendly at the beginning of the visit but got quieter and quieter as time went on. He kept looking at me funny. I apologized about the old ratty shirt and told him about my washer troubles. He barely nodded and seemed in a hurry to leave. He brought me my order and fairly ran out of the house. I went back to trying to find my ring.

Mark arrived home for lunch while I was still fishing around. I promptly started crying again and told him about my morning. He looked at me sort of funny, hugged me and began to look for my ring while I cleaned up the floor. He eventually found it! I dried my tears, attended to my wounds and made us peanut butter sandwiches for lunch. As we were sitting down to eat he said, "Don't you think you ought to change that shirt?" "Why" I asked looking down? Good God. One of my boobs was sticking out of a huge hole under the armpit of the shirt and the other one was covered by a big wet spot. My bra had apparently been wet when I put the shirt on. The bra that had become semi transparent in the soapy water. I now see why that poor young man was having trouble discussing the merits of New York over sirloin steak.

I took a shower, took some pills and and am now telling you all of this. After that I am going to watch an old movie. I hope I don't eat.

Take care, love Bea.

7 comments:

callmebabe said...

I can't even type, the tears are clouding my eyes. Praise you, Praise you for the belly laugh I so desperately needed.

Helen said...

LOLOLOLOL...I know you know this is funny...NOW. ;-)

ar said...

I thought this only happened in the movies. It would have been a very good one to film. Maybe you need to write this as a script? For a comedy I hope! Wow! Am so glad you did not break any bones Bea. Hope the visit will go better :>)

Nory Roth said...

Lucy and Ricky got nothin' on you!

Anonymous said...

Glad nothing more than your pride was hurt in that tumble. Are you planning a house tour for the couples from church? Just remember the food and fellowship are the best part of that kind of evening. If they aren't touring the upstairs, or if they are, weeding thru boxs of stuff right now may not be important. Cook one of your fabulous meals and don't sweat the small stuff!! Love,Marti

Cindy154 said...

I started laughing as soon as I heard it was the Schwan's man at the door and have been laughing ever since. Someday I want to tell you about when I got flashed on the highway and then ticketed trying to report the flashers. Long story. Old movies are soothing to me. I hope the rest of your day went well...

Lori said...

Oh, Beula, how horrifying and yet how funny about the shirt.

That cat! Cats do seem have a smug look on their faces, don't they?

I'm just sorry you fell and hurt yourself, even it's "just" bruises.

Feel better and know that I probably would have done something worse or had on something worse.