I have good news and bad news, the good news is I no longer have to work on Sundays, the bad news is that the fish in the freezer is melting and the new fridge won’t be here till next Saturday. The fridge is the latest money sucking hog to raise the husbands blood pressure. Things started to heat up last week right after I went grocery shopping on Thursday. The freezer was still working, but the fridge itself was barely cold. I guess you could say, the light was on but no one was home. Fortunately most of what I bought didn’t need to be refrigerated, but I had to ask the eggs to go live somewhere else, I hear they were very happy in their new home. The husband and I took a trip to the evil empire of home improvement and picked out a new fridge, a new fridge that was suppose to be here Tuesday, but because it’s a popular model, I needed it yesterday, and my last name is ******, they can’t deliver it on the date they had said.
In hindsight we should have picked up the small freezer they had on display, something we debated about while waiting 20 minutes for a sales associate to acknowledge our existence, because now the freezer is melting faster then the polar ice caps, and the husband has, had to dashed off and grab one before we lose everything in it. He’s also in a race against the weather as well. In my life it never just rains, it pours. On top of the break down of my kitchen ware, the sister has decided to move all her worldly belongings to a new location, and since I’m her only sister and she can count the number of friends willing to help her move, guess what I’ve been enlisted to do, but I have Sundays off now so it’s all good, or mostly good, it could be worse, right?
My sister and all of her neuroses is not agreeable to change, so this is a big step for her. She’s lived at her currant local for over twenty years and would have happily left her rotting corpse there for me to find if it wasn’t for the fact that the place is one leaky ceiling away from being labelled a crack house. Her landlord’s only interest is in collecting his rent, so she’s finally made the decision to pack up. Getting her to piss or get off the pot, as our Grandmother would always say has been like pulling teeth out. The sister can talk round a subject for so long your brain feels like its in a vise, and then there is the added bonus of getting her to stick to her decision. It’s a kin to jacking a squirrel up on caffeine then asking it to sit still.
Besides all of that, I came face to face with a bug yesterday at work that looked like it flew in from an episode of the twilight zone. Not just any bug mind you, but a giant, I have a sword in my butt to stab you with bee, a giant sword wielding bee, a giant sword wielding bee that was the width and length of my thumb. I kid you not, this thing looked like it was on steroids. You’ll just have to take my word for it, because I was not getting with in camera snapping distance of it. I was also a complete girl, and made one of the guys at the pizza place next door come kill it. He thought I was kidding too when I said giant bee until he saw it, then he said, Oh **** before flaying around for five minutes trying to squish it with my broom. He broke the handle off at the base, but the bee was ground into gorn dust, so it was totally worth it. I called my boss to explain why we had to destroy his broom, he just laughed at me and hung up. After that work passed by uneventfully, and I revelled in the knowledge that I don’t have to be there on Sunday.