Insomniacs need cable
The only thing worse than getting no sleep is having not a thing to do while you’re pacing the house like a caged animal. I almost wished I’d e-mailed home a report I’ve been working on at Dream Job — I probably could have gotten it done, for as long as I’ve been awake.
So I shopped online. I cleaned out iTunes, Old Navy and a few other places. Just don’t mention the words “$19 shipping for one item” to me — doesn’t seem like such a good idea in the morning light, now does it?
Why was I awake, you ask? Well, for one, the cats angry with me that I don’t let them play on the balcony 24/7 (oh, they whine and throw themselves against the glass balcony door now — spoiled brats) and Kadi HOWLS at me to get up. Maddie has no problem sleeping next to me — hogging the bed and rubbing her stinky ass against my head (ugh). Oh, but wait — it gets better — it’s also RAINING in my bathroom.
I was probably at home for at least 14 hours before I would finally allow myself to use the facilities (no beverages were allowed last night), and even then, I did my business in 20 seconds and got the hell out of there. The fan vent in the ceiling has steadily dripped yellow water since long before I got home last night — I yanked everything out of the bathroom, including my beloved rug, and I am not sure anything is worth saving.
And, dummy me — if I hadn’t washed the car, it wouldn’t have RAINED all night. I had hung the rug over the balcony railing for it to dry. HAH! Now it’s just full of rainwater. Hooray.
I’m an idiot, though — I used the garbage can (which had crap in it) to catch the water. So now I have a bag full of water and wet tissues. Genius. I finally got smart and left the toilet seat up, and the water is going straight into it. Yay Dawn! She’s not the brightest bulb in the box, but sometimes, the synapses connect.
In any event, speaking of bathroom items, I have a bone to pick with Wal-Mart and cashiers around the country. I am one of those anal-retentive assholes that they hate who will group my items on the conveyor belt in the way I want them to be bagged. Meaning, just because I buy tampons and toilet cleanser, it does not mean you are to bag them together because they will be used in the same room. Just because they might be used within proximity of each other does not mean they are used in the same hole and, therefore, I don’t want them bagged together.
And, yes, I am also one of those assholes who takes an extra bag and rearranges my parcels before I leave the store. (My mother would be so proud.)
Well, gotta go scrub my butt — hopefully I have water in the SHOWER and not just raining into the commode.
On iTunes: Ivy, “Let’s Go to Bed”