Paying More At The Pump

i set out to do some chores this morning. laundry. gas. car wash.

laundry done. check.

gas. check.

car wash. err...

see i forgot my dollars. so i couldn't do the DIY car wash. it's fun for me. a challenge. i like to see if i can scrub and rinse and dry in under 1:30 without ripping out the hose from the ceiling. but i forgot my dollars. so, no DIY challenge this morning.

instead, i got gas. and while i got gas, i also decided that i would clean my windshield. and so i did. and then i noticed bird crap on my hood. so i cleaned that off, too. then i put the wiper back into its water bin, the paper towel into the trash, and got into my car. and drove away. until i heard something behind me. hmmm...what's that?

i look in my side view mirror to find the nozzle of the gas pump dangling from my gas tank.

get gas. check.

clean windshield. check.

put nozzle back where it belongs before driving away. err...

the nozzle was still attached to my car. but not to the pump. i had ripped the hose from its locked in position at the top of the pump. damn. i look up and the cashier motions at me to come in. for a moment i think, i gotta get outta here!

rationality then set in and i walked into the gas-station-quickie-mart. deflated. filled out an "accident" form. signed said form. accepted the sneers and raised single brows of disappointment from the lookers-on. mild shame set in. and then i walked out.

my head hung low, my car parked in the middle of the lot, hazards flashing. patrons at every pump except the one i just maimed. the lady that had just sneered at me inside was now telling me that everything should be okay. ummm, okay...thanks?

as i drove away i thought about my DIY challenge. i didn't time myself with the windshield washing and the gas pumping, but i did manage to rip the hose from the pump. i'm pretty sure those pumps and hoses are designed to withstand idiots like myself.

ah...good times.

Mindless Banter

so it may not be banter if it's just me, but this is what's happening.

laundry: part pure joy, part pure evil.

if you know me, you know i like things to be clean. and organized. and laundry allows me to accomplish both of these tasks. i love folding (as we know by the bags in our house). and i love putting things where they belong. pure. joy.

on the other hand. there's putting everything IN the washer. i don't wear things 8 times before i put them in the laundry basket. and i don't wait to do laundry every 4 months, thus allowing the stench to permeate the floorboards and make the neighbors wonder if i'm hiding the stray cat we haven't seen in a month in our apartment. (i DON'T do that, i said). sooo...why am i constantly slapped in the face by the stink of barely-week-old clothes coming out of the hamper going into the washer? we take showers. daily. so i don't understand why our clothes smell like dead cat. we wear deodorant. (one can see the deodorant marks on the underarms of our shirts, even though the label promises to glide on clear with no white mess). pure evil.

it's really all i can do to stay focused on the fact that in 22 short minutes i'll be loading fresh, pristine fabrics of clean delight into the dryer and pretending to read my book just to avoid the annoying laundry clerk who thinks i want to know that her kid is finally potty trained (after 4 years, he should be), and so i can watch the cleanliness go round and round and round while daydreaming about all the folding that is about to ensue.

it's been a good morning. a good morning, indeed.

Tina Fey Nails Sarah Palin

It's true. And so...here it is.