Hell yes, baaaaaybeee! And you know what that means? Rambling time! If this is your first time reading something written on a COFFEE DAY, I suggest reading a previous post so you can be forewarned of the jumbled mess my brain becomes on Thursdays.
I ignored the messes I woke up to this morning. Well, not really, I just drowned them in espresso. I probably shouldn't complain about having an extra person in the house for the summer. Especially considering my daughter informed me this is probably the end. This is the end, beautiful friend. (Doors reference there in case you missed it.) End actually meaning that she would like her own apartment by the end of her next year in college. So, if all goes as planned, I won't have these irritations much longer but for the sake of all that is holy, I had forgotten what a mess a girl child/adult leaves in her wake. I suppose it could be worse...her laundry isn't as big a mountain as it used to be, since she pretty much lives in work clothes and lounge wear. She's also working so much that her ability to have a social life is almost nada, so the few occasions she goes out and disappears until the next morning have not been able to get a rise out of me. However, because of these excessive work hours, I now have not just one, but TWO tabletops covered in girl-crap. The beginnings of craft projects, about ten books because she has gotten hooked on a particular author, nail polish bottles, dirty socks (yes, on MY TABLE), dirty tank tops, hair bands, jewelry, and money. She's a waitress, and sometimes, after a particularly grueling shift (or at the end of a double shift) she's just too tired to cash in her tips and stuffs wadded up bills wherever she finds room (which I found out is usually the glove box of her car), along with the five pounds of change weighing her apron down to her knees, and yup, you guessed it, then dumps it on her choice of table. Then, there's the collection of 40+ bobby pins in the bathroom. They are in the bathroom, in a dish, because I put them there every time I find one. And where there's one, there's another. And another. And another. It's pretty common sense my vacuum cleaner hates these things, so I have spent entirely too much time this summer scouring the floor not only looking for mouse carcasses, but bobby pins. I'm usually rewarded for my efforts. In bobby pins, not carcasses, because FatCat is still on strike. At the moment, I'm ignoring the growing piles, cleaning off one table and making one heaping pile on the other table. She's got three double shifts this week, and I'm waiting for the right moment before ordering a cleanup...preferably through text message once I've left for work. Smart cookie that I am.
I arrived to work with a greeting from my niece who was helping out today. I adore that girl, and not just because she's not living with me spreading bobby pins everywhere. But, since I grew up in a family with a sick sense of humor, I love to give the child loads and oodles of crap. So, after watching a ten minute video last night of nothing but stupid pranks, I was so ready to mess with her. My favorite moment was when I was pricing some Christmas greenery (yes Christmas, shut it) and had a long, viney looking spare piece, in which I promptly threw at her screaming "OH MY GAWD, IT'S A SNAKE".
I love to hear her screech.
You ever notice that if people would actually just LISTEN to you, you could answer their question ALOT quicker?
This was one conversation today:
"Do you know where the tea room is?"
Me: "Yes, are you familiar with our downtown?" (I should probably note here that the downtown I'm speaking of is only about six square blocks)
"The tea room? Where is it?"
Me: (again) "Are you familiar with our downtown? Have you been on Main Street today?" (pointing in the direction of Main Street only four storefronts away.
"I don't know where the tea room is, it used to be across from the drug store."
Me: "The tearoom used to be close to the drug store (I'm not going to tell her it never was ACROSS from it), but that was about 15 years ago. Did you see the movie theater when you came into town?"
"Where is the tea room?"
Me: "The movie theater is right around the corner, so when you see the marquee, look directly across the street...that's where the tea room is."
"I think it's called Betty's Bread Basket"
Me: (by this point, I'm not going to attempt to give her any more information short of exactly where that tea room is. If I tell her it's been bought by a new owner, this whole conversation could get even more time consuming and confusing) "Yes, the Bread Basket, it's across from the movie theater on Main Street".
Did I ever mention I actually have an incredible amount of patience? Maybe not according to the thoughts in my head, but it at least appears that way. Especially on coffee day.
Along with a day of questions, I also had a day of muffintops, boobs, and ass cheeks. I understand it's summer, BUT, I also think that common sense would say a white tissue tee should not be worn with a sky blue bra underneath. Especially when the tee is at least two sizes too small. And just a word of advice...if you find yourself yanking at the crotch of your shorts every time you get out of your car, you might want to buy the next size up. Because not only are they riding up, but they're riding DOWN when you're tugging, and I now know exactly what your thong looks like. In detail.
I drive home, mind racing on espresso, and OF COURSE, get behind a field looker. This is farm country, and even when you think there's nothing to see in the fields, there are plenty of good ol' boys that see plenty. And drive 35MPH to make sure they see every last inch of it. Lines on the road, be damned and all. So, I had plenty of time to think about things, like exactly how people get those perfect lines mowed into their lawns. Ours looks like someone had a seizure while mowing, which maybe I should ask my daughter if she's been twitching lately, since she's the one doing it. I guess it's possible she's picking up bobby pins out of the grass, so the lines wouldn't be absolutely straight.
I arrive home to the loud buzzing of the generator at the fire station/city office. Power out. Again. I blogged last week that it's not common for us to lose power, and I think someone took that as a challenge. In reality, I find out some new line work is being done, but I have to ask, why shut down entire grids for a span of over an hour right at dinnertime? And, huh, big question here, why not tell people, since this is the second time in four days?
The bright side is I used that as an excuse to not cook dinner, since I didn't know how long the power would be out...smart cookie again. When the power finally returned, I started up the computer, going through emails, and then hit up Facebook. I found this interesting thing going on...if I looked at certain "likes" on statuses or comments, the number automatically went down by one. I'm not such a tech-doofus that I couldn't figure it out...it means somewhere out there, someone I am a mutual acquaintance with has me blocked. So, hovering over a "like" number of three, suddenly flashes down to two. Suddenly, I'm hovering over ALL the likes, getting a little burst of joy every time my mouse causes a number to decrease by one. I'm giddy with the BLOCKED POWER (said in a Darth Vader voice)...hover, hover, unlike, unlike. By the time I get through my newsfeed (or tire of the already increasing political viewpoints), I feel like I have a magic wand in my hands that just makes things go *POOF*.
I tried my *POOF* power on the table of girl piles, but all I succeeded in doing is stepping on another bobby pin. Power trip deflated. Espresso high coming down.
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