Tag: humor

To Fold or Not to Fold

Published on by cmglife

I can only do my laundry in stages. Maybe it’s me or my ADHD  (maybe everyone else does their laundry this way and I am being paranoid as usual).

I do it all on Saturdays or Sundays and sometimes both.  Sort, wash, dry, fold and put away (SWDFPA).  I can’t do it after 4:00 because it will sit and mildew in the washer, too late to get through the SWDFPA cycle.  It’s a regimented chaotic system I have developed.

So, at the end of a long weekend day of SWDFPA, I don’t always get to fold the monstrous pile on the bed.  That really sucks when one has had their allocated two glasses of wine and decides to finally throw in the towel (no pun intended) and go to bed.

It is a vicious circle, a “Catch 22” if you will.  I want to flop into bed because of the laundry yet can’t, because of the laundry.

This is when the fight of wills ensues.  Pull all the clothes to one side and go to bed anyway? It’s worked before…..  Transfer them to the couch? No, I would be a hypocrite. (My husband puts dried clothes on the living room couch which is the reason I will murder him one day.)

Do you know that folding clothes after a couple of glasses of wine really wrecks a good buzz?

Where Am I?

Published on by cmglife

I walked into the dingy laundromat last week to get our comforter washed.  Dingy is how I would describe every laundromat I have ever been in.

The music playing was nice, something Caribbean, merengue maybe? As I scanned the room for the counter I wondered casually what everyone’s story was.  Why don’t they own a washer and dryer?  I don’t judge.  There was a time when I was a young mother using the laundromat.

As I got to the desk, there was a young guy who asked me how he could help.  I gave him my comforter and waited as he wrote out the ticket.  We chatted about the weather, the fact that it was Friday, etc.  He took my money and I left.

As I walked through all the machines I reflected how much my life had changed.  I had my own washer and dryer now.  I had arrived.

I went through the doors to my car.  As I reached for my keys I noticed the music was still playing.  I felt for my phone.  The merengue music had been blasting from my purse all along.

Oh, yes, I had arrived alright. To where I’m not sure.

Puzzle From Hell

Published on by cmglife

Oh, how we persevered, puzzle from hell!

As I was picking it out at Barnes and Noble, Emily said, “No, Mom, it’s too complicated and too many pieces.”

No, I thought, I like the picture and that is all I could focus on.  The fact it was 1000 pieces of 100 cartoon horses seemed to be a non-issue.

I feel like I do this a lot; in fact I have kind of a reputation in my family of not seeing the big picture.  To me it doesn’t seem to have any rhyme or reason so it is hard for me to correct.  I know my loved ones would disagree.  They seem to see the common denominators in these situations and try to point them out to me before I take that fatal step.  Sometimes it’s something benign like the puzzle and sometimes quite severe like moving to a town with less than 800 people.

Well, this puzzle has become a metaphor for mine and Emily’s life together.

We persevered until it was done.  Even though it took up half the dining room table and we made everyone squish at one end to eat, we did not give in.  After two days, we did not give in. We did it together until we were seeing double. Then one would take a break and the other would continue.  Tristan came by and helped a bit.  Allison stuck in there for a few minutes until she announced every time, “I hate puzzles!”

When it was finally done and we realized there were three pieces missing, we felt annoyed for a minute and then let it roll off our backs.  We did everything we could do and it was enough.

The puzzle was just like us, a little broken, but we could see the big picture.

The Creamer and Wine Diet

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By popular demand, imagined or not, I must release my diet plan to the clamoring masses.

Here is how I do it:

6:00 am 

Wake up and have one cup of coffee with hazelnut creamer. I love creamer and I am willing to sacrifice food calories for it.  I should get it delivered in a keg, have it on tap.

7:30 am

Coffee and creamer again at the office.

9:00 am

Yogurt, the best kind is the one where the water is sitting on top.  You are so starving by this time it could be mold and it wouldn’t matter.

11:15 am

Lean cuisine or a salad for lunch.

4:00 pm

Eat only protein like chicken breast in the evening for dinner and some veg. Just eat before 5pm. If it is after 5pm well I’m sorry you are screwed and hungry.  Buck up.  Wait until 7:00 pm.

7:00 pm

Drink two glasses of wine, spread it over a couple of hours. Like the creamer, I love wine and am willing to give up that meatball sandwich in order to have it. Sacrifice, that is what it is all about in dieting. You may omit the wine, I can’t or won’t, but to each his own.

Don’t expect to be able to keep this up indefinitely, prepare yourself for a break down and eat a piece of bread or a bowl of cereal after 4-5 days.

Disclaimer: I am the only one that endorses this plan.

Full House

Published on by cmglife

I have a full house this week of Christmas break.

And just how do you think I am handling the situation?  You would be right, not well, not well at all.  Tonight I took an anti anxiety pill I reserve for emergencies; second time in my life to use it. The first time I took one I actually had a panic attack. I was afraid what it would do to me.  Irony at it’s best, the drug is to prevent panic attacks.  Ha Ha Ha, what a crack up I am!

I wasn’t going to have a panic attack, but I was getting quite anxious knowing that my in-laws were joining my daughter, son in law and granddaughter (they were here first) at our house for a few days.  On top of that I will be entertaining a cousin and his family.  Oh, yeah then there are John’s friends.  I tend to be a bit of an introvert so having this many people and for so long is wearing my nerves down.

They mean well, but when my sister-in-law starts telling me about people she knows, their names, their children’s names, their spouse’s names and their pets’ names, breed, age and gender.  After I learn all of that there is the list of jobs each of them has, how great the jobs are and their co-workers.  Half way through the evening I am so agitated from boredom, but trying to be polite and pay attention even by asking pertinent questions when I think appropriate. After two hours of this I feel like drowning myself in the kitchen sink.

Tonight I couldn’t take it, even though I had mother’s little helper swimming through my blood stream I begged off saying I was too tired and must go to bed.  I sneaked the laptop into the bedroom and here I sit with headphones on writing to save my sanity for tomorrow.

I do most of this for my husband. I have to step up. Wait a minute, he was gone a suspiciously long time getting groceries just after they arrived.  He didn’t have a good explanation of why it took one and half hours to spend $100 dollars. Coward.

Pretty Boy Crushes

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My first celebrity crush was Tommy Shaw from Styx.  My sister had their first album and at 12 I was transfixed by his pretty boy looks.

Then there was Jim Morrison.  Adam Ant. Prince (disturbing, but true). I had a crush on a real life person for many years, an ex-boyfriend of mine.

Bono, need I say more?  At least I actually met him.  Shook his hand, twice!  Also, met The Edge. Shook his hand too!

More recently was Johnny Depp.  That crush kept going for a couple of years.  It faded and I tossed him to the curb.

I was really feeling empty until, Adam Lambert. My newest pretty boy crush. I know, he’s gay, which sucks for him and me.  Star crossed lovers is what we are. He is so completely gorgeous and talented I can’t believe he can’t and won’t ever be in the running.  How can a straight woman have a crush on a gay man?  Don’t know.

In a life like mine a little fantasy is a harmless outlet.  Sex, drugs and alcohol have their merits, but having a harmless crush on someone can be quite therapeutic.  They don’t demand anything from you, you can deny them when you are not in the mood and when you have moved on you don’t have to break the news to them.  In fact you can be quite cruel which in itself can be freeing and satisfying.  There is no splitting of the assets, the children or the pets. It’s a perfect arrangement.

There is the little thing that they don’t know you exist.  I realize that, but in my case a handshake will do.

Christmas Dinners

Published on by cmglife

Whatever happened to “themed” Christmas dinners? That is what my family will ask after I’m gone.

“I don’t know,” Emily will say wistfully “my favorite was the BBQ.  Even though I’m a vegetarian I loved the smell of the smoked sausage, ham and ribs cooking all day in the oven.”

Tristan will reminisce, “I remember the prime rib and frozen coconut shrimp Christmas.  The prime rib was a little cold by the time it got to the table and the shrimp was almost thawed, but Mom looked great!”

Little Allison will look longingly at the dining room table, “I remember the Italian Christmas when I was 11.  The pasta stuck together like it does on any other day, but I did get to drink sparkling apple juice from a champagne glass.”

That is what I envision as a post death conversation my resistant family will be having regarding my themed Christmas dinners.  Always being a pioneer, I started the themed Christmas dinners a few years ago to expose the children to new cultures and diversity.

Yeah, that’s a load of “stuffing”.  I started it because we had already had turkey, etc. less than four weeks earlier for Thanksgiving.  I personally don’t like turkey and how often do you get to justify a $35 piece of meat?

Petite Ears

Published on by cmglife

I am sitting in bed writing at the moment.  I write listening to music with my earphones in.  I’m talking the ear buds, not the $200 customized dj headphones (I wouldn’t be caught dead in them anyway; I never wear ear muffs either).  I must have unusually small ears because ear buds are never comfortable. If I’m wearing the earphones while I’m cleaning which I always do (it keeps my mind off it) they are constantly falling out.   I am forever readjusting, fiddling or putting them back in.

Then there is the fact that they get caught on everything while I’m walking around the house.  The cord gets caught on the dishwasher rack mostly.   Sometimes I don’t realize I’m wearing them and do something stupid like change my shirt.  Let me tell you it’s a drag trying to untangle earphones out of the sleeves of your shirt.

Just the general sudden hand movements that drag the earphones quickly and violently from one’s ear.  That just plain hurts and kind of pisses me off because I am usually concentrating on some important thought and that messes up my flow.

Have you ever been zapped by static while wearing earphones?  Boy, that’s no fun.  I suffer enough brain zapps before my medicine kicks in the morning thank you very much.

What Christmas Means To Me….

Published on by cmglife

You start off thinking you’ve got it all covered.

One small gift for each of the women in the office. So that’s it right? Three gifts.  Go to The Body Shop in the mall and buy three small, $10 body butters in nice holiday packaging.  No need to wrap, slap a card on them and good to go right?

Oh, not so fast!  A dilemma: Another friend whom I did not get a gift gave me a present of a tiny water feature that will sit on my desk to give me tranquility.  To the card she taped a marble, in case I lost my last one (she has no idea just how close she got it).  I was seriously touched.  I think she is great, but I wanted to keep a reign on my gift giving for money purposes and I had a good plan.  How could I not reciprocate at this point when the woman gave me a marble and a fountain of all things?  Now if I give her a gift, will she think I did because she gave me one? She, of course, would be correct.

I just received a text from my friend in the office.  Do I want to put in twenty dollars for a gift card from us in the office for our administration?  Wait a minute I think …where does this stop?

I just want to honor the true meaning of Christmas, gift etiquette.

The Day My Clutch Went Out

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On a way to a meeting today my clutch went out.  I managed to limp my car into a dealership, barely making it.  I was definitely shaken up after a 45 minute drive only able to use 2nd and 5th gear.

I was so elated and relieved to see the man in the service department! I wanted to fall onto the desk and tell him the whole story.  How I had handled it alone, no help from my dad or my husband!  I wanted to tell him what a big deal this was because I have no self confidence or mechanical experience.  Wouldn’t he be interested to also hear that I got stuck at an intersection a ¼ of a mile from here and I used my ingenuity and unusually long and ambipedal big toe to pry the clutch from the floor?  Wouldn’t he listen intently and sympathize maybe even offering me a seat, a coffee or a cold drink?

Instead all he asked was, “Can I have your last name?”