Sunday, September 30, 2012

Laurie Ann Snicket's Series of Stupid Mistakes

I don't know what is wrong with me today but I have made one stupid mistake after another.  Stupid, because the mistakes I made are things I'm usually pretty anal about.  Not today.  

I didn't get a lot of sleep last night.  Let's just start there.  I was plagued with nightmares, none of which I can remember at this point, but I went to bed with the moon still high in the west, then woke up at 7am with the sun in my eyes.  I decided to read a little and fired up my beloved Kindle, which oddly had no name*, and dove in.  Two hours later, my mind began to drift**.  Laundry was piling up. So, with a sigh, I placed my beloved Kindle carefully into it's padded case, and gathered clothes.  Just before leaving the house, I crawled across the bed to turn off the window fan.  That's when I heard a pop...or was it a crack. A cracky pop. Or, a poppy crack.  Whatever it was, the sound was horrifying. I knew immediately the source of said soun; my beloved Kindle, post-mortemly named Ken, was under my left hand and now, he's stuck on Jules Verne for eternity.  Normally, when I'm done reading, I put Ken in his case and place it on the shelf of my nightstand.  Today, I left him on the bed, and then tossed the covers back, thereby covering Mr. Kindle.  I guess this makes the case for always making the bed, but I doubt I'll change.

I had a quick and thorough cry over my now-dead Kindle (truth be told, I'm still devastated), then headed out. I'll make a quick stop at McDonalds, then over to the Burbank Michael's for Halloween costume supplies, then back to Hollywood for the laundry.  In the McD's parking lot, I was waiting for some guy to do a 3-point turn, when a Range Rover started backing up right into my car.  Who backs up without even looking in a mirror?  And I assume the driver didn't look at all because my car is not so small that it wouldn't have shown up in either the right or left side mirrors, even if it's too short to show up in the rear mirror.  I honked.  It kept coming.  I honked more.  The driver taking forever to make a 3-point turn gave me the finger.  I reached my hand out the window and banged on the spare tire of the Range Rover.  It was that close.  He pulled forward and so did I.

I got to the drive-thru speaker, placed my order, and drove to the first window.  I turned to reach into my purse--MY PURSE!!! WHERE'S MY PURSE??  It's in the trunk with your dirty laundry, idiot.  So, I had to get out of my car (in the drive thru lane), open my trunk, get my purse, get back in the car, fumble for my wallet, die of embarrassment, get my food, and move on.  

The Michael's trip went well, except for the high cost of costume supplies, and I was off to the laundry.  I didn't have a lot of cash, so I decided to conserve washers.  Don't tell my Mom (I'm hoping she was watching one of my other siblings), but I didn't separate my light and dark shirts. I threw them in together, which is okay if you use a cold wash.  The rinse cycle on the first washer came and went.  The rinse cycle on the second washer came and went.  I stood there, Downy at the ready, and still no rinse cycle for the third washer.  Why not? Oh, maybe because I didn't turn it on.  It was underwear, so normal wash, push on--sigh.  This will set my laundry time back at least 45 minutes.  First washer done; jeans in dryer.  Second washer done; undies in dryer.  Third washer.....OH MY GOD! I just washed my lights and darks in WARM.  Fortunately, only one shirt was ruined.  

And would you look at this  park job.I'm surprised the car to my right could fit at all.  I'm usually a very good  parker. 
Upon leaving the laundromat, I dropped my phone under my car seat and had to contort myself to get it. I've decided not to touch anything else this evening. I'm not cooking. I'm not knitting. I'm just going to sit here***.  

*It's odd because I name everything.  My car, my phone, my iPod, my plants, my drop spindle (for spinning straw into gold).  
**The book is set in England. Our WeHo Stitch n Bitch Halloween theme is Great Britain. Ideas began forming.
***That sounds really awful. I may watch some movies, if I don't break the DVD player...shhhh, I didn't say that.

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