A No Good Horrible Very Bad Day … That Went to the Dogs

So. We had a lovely downpour of rain and wintry mix all day today making the trees shine but the roads slick. Not fun. In case you were wondering, tonight everything is frozen solid. And I mean everything … the yard, the trees, the newly blossoming daffodils, the power lines (fingers-crossed that they hold), the roads. Plus it made my internet flaky all day which caused issues with getting my work done. Also not fun.

Another bonus: my town is going through some infrastructure repairs, replacing water pipes through town, under the roads, to be specific. I guess I should explain that we have one road in to town and one road out of town, both one-way for obvious reasons (i.e., we’re a small town in the middle of nowhere and for no reason whatsoever, the powers that be decided to make travel throughout town as difficult and as annoying as possible so poof! 99% of the roads throughout town are one-way, including the two major thoroughfares). To complete said infrastructure work, one of the main thoroughfares has been closed to traffic and the second has been turned into a two-way road which in turn has played havoc with the side roads (since they are also one-way), all of which makes any trip anywhere right now an adventure in endless detours, made even more precarious by the aforementioned wintry mix.

Unfortunately, after work, I had to venture out into the mess and maze to run a few errands. More not fun. You could say that for the most part, my day was less than pleasant and this was simply the cherry pit on top of a brussels sprout sundae.

Then … then … my trip through the labyrinth of hell ended in a visit to the local library (to pick up a long-awaited book that finally came in) when lo and behold, I met not one, but two amazingly friendly and cute-as-buttons dogs attending an event I had no idea was happening at the library.

Needless to say, it was a good day. A good day, indeed.

A Toast to Toasts

I love to be validated. I mean, who doesn’t, right?

Things I would love to find out I am right about include:  tofu not only tastes bad, but it is bad for you, being a couch potato adds ten years to your life, and drinking regularly is good for you.  While the jury is still out on tofu, a study published here gives me reason to dream again.

Yes folks, it is true.  Drinking two drinks per day will allow you to live to 90+ years.  Read that again, my friends.  Drinking two drinks per day is “more likely to extend life past 90 than exercise.” All this time, I’ve been doing it right.  Take THAT, health fanatics!  While you’ve all been out doing healthy things like “walking,” “working out,” and “getting up from the couch on occasion,” I’ve been sipping wine, with the remote by my side, on the sofa and adding years – years, people! – to my life.

I wonder how many other things we will find out are good or bad for us that we never imagined.  My dream list would include:

Housecleaning is dangerous for your health:  Think about it.  You are inhaling dust, subjecting your body to strange chemicals, and moving.  The moving alone, per the study above, is obviously not that good for you after all.  And talk about physical harm?  I have tripped over the vacuum cleaner cord many times in my quest for a clean house; dear God, I could have died!

Fast food is good for you:  GMO vegetables and fruit…why bother?  With a good old fashioned #3 from your favorite fast food menu, you know exactly what you are getting.  Well, sort of.  It may or may not be meat that may or may not have been from a farm animal, but you get the gist. I’m not even sure about those fries. Don’t be lazy, though; get out of the car and walk up to the counter to add some moderate exercise to your fast food routine (I’m told this also helps in getting one’s order correct).

Laundry is a bad idea:  From water waste to chemicals, laundry surely is bad for both you and the environment.  Disposable clothes made from biodegradable material is the answer here.  No need to fold, put away, hand wash, put away, separate, put away, or put away your laundry ever again.  Also, you never need to put away your laundry ever again. Just so you know, I keep track of this stuff, so no-one better steal my ideas.

Paying bills is bad for you:  This, of course, is a big one. The anguish of money pouring out of your account.  The possibility of stolen identity with each online bill paid.  Surely, paying bills has to be a danger to your mental health.  Let’s band together and just stop paying those pesky things; our lives will be longer, happier and stress free.  Hey, who turned out the lights!?

Chocolate is an undiscovered food group on that omnipresent pyramid:  I think the Aztecs and Mayans had this one right. One day, scientists will figure out that chocolate is its own food group.  They will study it and assign it a place on the food pyramid.  Health coaches and nutritionists will recommend five to six servings a day.  It will also be discovered that chocolate has the side effect of weight loss.

Rest assured, I will be scouring the news in search of more vindication of my border-line slovenly lifestyle.  Until I find more proof that my way of life is healthy, I will be knocking back a few glasses of Pinot Gris Health Juice and watching reruns on the couch.

Cheers!

Happiness is Fuel for Life

After leaving my parents’ house the other day, I figured I ought to stop for gas so that I didn’t run out right at the top of the bridge I have to cross to get home. I mean, I’ve seen that happen to other people and it does not look fun. Being low on funds, however, I only had so much money in the bank to use for this annoying purchase (I hate pumping gas, I hate paying for gas, I hate everything about the transaction). At the same time, every single pump at the gas station had these huge notes on them: SUPREME ONLY. Of course, right? Why did I think this exercise would be easy. As it turns out, supreme gas is much more expensive than the bottom of the barrel fuel my car is used to getting from me…another “go figure” moment. Because of the jump in price, I couldn’t get as many gallons as I could have otherwise. But I felt as though I had no choice because I really, really, really did not want to run out of gas on this bridge and since I had put off the dreaded purchase prior to getting to this point on the highway (because I am a stupid procrastinator), there was nowhere else to go.

Then this happened. And all was right with the world again.

 

 

Morning Cup of Something

My coffee pot died a few months ago. We had a funeral and everything. It was very sad. I loved that coffee pot like it was my own child.  To add insult to injury, I haven’t had the chance lately to visit the store in search of a few staples (half & half, sugar, a new coffee pot, blah blah blah) AND there was no time this morning to hit the McDonald’s for a fresh (semi-fresh?) cup of joe. It’s the one thing I miss about the very early way too early schedule during the school year. I could swing by the local golden arches and get my coffee before starting work. But not today. So, everything in my coffee this morning, including the sweetener, comes from a tin. Blech.

At least the cup is cool.

 

 

Our Deep Fried Life

Running some errands this evening, and came across this food truck. Well, it’s not really a food truck, because it’s pretty much a permanent, or at least, semi-permanent structure, but it appears to be based on the same “quick, cheap, but better than fast-food” premise.  Among other things, this parking lot establishment specializes in polish sausages, shell pizza, and sweet treats of the carnival variety. I’ll be honest, it was the abundance of fried confections that caught my attention. I mean, come on!  Deep fried Twinkies and Oreos!?  Deep fried peanut butter and jelly!?  Be still my heart.

My first thought was damn, I bet those are scrumptiously delicious…admittedly with a tad bit more excitement than is probably normal for someone over the age of 5.

My second thought was “what the hell is wrong with us?”  The “us” of course being people, the community, our society, and country as a whole. Seriously, what is wrong with us? Is it possible that it’s just because everything is better when it’s deep fried? I’ve seen deep fried cheesecake on a menu. Deep. Fried. Cheesecake. So yeah, I wouldn’t argue the idea that deep-frying has the potential to make most foods even more mouth-watering. But really? Is this what we’ve come to?

I don’t know whether to embrace our descent into decadence or hang my head in shame. I suppose whichever stance doesn’t get peanut butter and jelly in my hair.

Shoo Fly

I have window air conditioners that blow…and not in a good way.  They work to keep the place tolerable, at least to a point, but the monthly cost to keep from living in a sauna is quite high. So I open my windows at every opportunity, especially on particularly windy days and evenings, like it is here now — a storm having just moved through. The problem IS, is that somewhere, somehow, there must be a hole in a screen or some tiny crevice in a frame where all manner of creepy crawlers and buzzing flyers are gaining entrance. I’ve looked at all the windows and can’t SEE any holes in the screens, but something is amiss, otherwise we wouldn’t be living in a frog’s paradise.

Oh, my cat, Shaylee…she makes short work of the larger creeping critters. Being a good hunter of the bug variety, and apparently having no shortage of an appetite for the little buggers, she has a field day, I must say.  Flies are her favorite. It’s actually quite impressive to watch her in action. Awe inspiring to see someone so dedicated to their craft, truly.

But the smaller bugs, and unfortunately the truly frightening ones — the ones that look prehistoric or as though they’ve somehow mutated due to alien interference — THOSE she has no interest in. Maybe she knows something we don’t.

More often than I care to be doing so, I find myself up on a chair, glass or tissue in hand (we catch as many of them as we can and let them go outside rather than just arbitrarily smooshing them), trying desperately to catch a fast-footed whatchamacallit without it springing into defensive mode or simply losing its grip on the wall and landing on ME.  It’s a sight to behold, I’m sure, and I have no doubt my neighbors must wonder just “what the hell is going on over there with all that noise and screaming??”

Knowing my luck, it’s these very same liberated bugs returning over and over again, ungrateful for their shot at freedom…or as I have often dreamt in nightmarish color, perhaps they are rising up, staunchly determined to stage a coup and take over the house altogether.