please, fry my bacon

The magical thing about having a husband is that the world has decided to hate me and it took me a while to notice.

The new web site at work is taking a long time due to organizations that love to complain about the lack of a place to put the content that they do not have. I went home early yesterday to let them ponder that undeniable fact. Also, I am coming down with something other than my normal cynicism.

I was laying on the couch with a sweatshirt and socks under a fleece blanket with a heating pad on my neck and the heater turned to 75. But no, there would be nary a wink of sleep. Why? Because our upstairs neighbors were moving. OUT. MOVING! AWAY! FROM! ME! The neighborly neighbors heretofore referred to as The Ephalumps, will not be knocking any more pictures off my bedroom walls. They will not be full-body wrestling at midnight using my ear lobes as launching ropes. Only as a last farewell, they would be interrupting my malaise vacation with large washing applicances crashing down three flights of stairs.

When I got up to make dinner, the bacon was frozen where it had been IN THE FRIDGE for 2 weeks. It was more like bacon sushi. It was cut so thin, I could not for the life of me get it into the pan in one piece. It's the same bacon I always buy.

The eggs were done. The bacon was somewhere between fried and not. We punched a DVD in and pressed play. And the food from my fork fell on the floor. All the food. Three times. Within two minutes. Just as I got all the food picked up off the floor and onto a spare plate, I hit my fork with my wrist. Floor.

I looked at Aaron and he looked at me. "It's OK. I still love you."

What world?


Blogger Dara said...

i will fry your bacon!....wait, that sounds

7:41 PM


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