Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Is Dr. Pepper a Real Doctor?

So there hasn't been a whole lot of talk about writing on this blog lately, and that is because there hasn't been a whole lot of writing in my life lately. Whenever I relocate, I find it very difficult to write.

Even grocery shopping is difficult when you've just moved. You wander the aisles, wondering if you're the type of person who buys milk. Did I buy milk in my last life? You can't remember. You might have snubbed chain stores and only shopped locally in this distant, dimly remembered life. But now there are only chains. What do you do?

Anyway, everyone's been asking me how today is going. *Waves* Hi, Sheila. Yes, you did too ask me how my day was going. Yes. Well, you might have. I mean, it would have been nice of you to ask, Sheila. God knows I ask you how you are all the time.

(Please note: Sheila is not real.)

HOW HAS MY DAY BEEN GOING? Well, in the past thirty minutes I burned my palm on my hairdryer. I deliberately just put my hand right on it, TO SEE IF IT WAS HOT. Well, it was. Extremely hot. Glad I could confirm that for everybody.

Then I decided to have some soda. Just the fact that I have soda in my fridge is strange, but then again maybe in this new life I am a person who always has soda in her fridge. So I get out the soda and I open it and drink some from the container (obviously).

Did you guys just hear that?? That was my mother-in-law sharply inhaling at the thought of me drinking directly from a container. But Curt does it too! In fact, I think he started it. No, I'm sure of it.

You know, I NEVER drank from a container when I lived with my parents. But now that I do the dishes, I have to really think about what is worth washing.

(Note to guests, Mother-in-Law, and Mother: I will not serve you from containers that I have previously drank from. That is gross. I do have my limits.)

So anyway I take a sip from the container and then I decide, "Hey, let's be classy. Let's drink our soda FROM A GLASS." I open the cabinet to get a glass.

I have either forgotten how tall a liter of soda is or how low my new cabinets are. Possibly both. The cabinet door knocks over the liter of soda, which starts vomiting Dr. Pepper all over the counter.

I place the soda in the upright position. Then—and I can't really explain this part—as I turn to grab paper towels, I slap the cabinet closed.

It knocks the soda over AGAIN. Now soda is almost evenly distributed on the counter. Good. I do like my symmetry. I start to hallucinate ants. Why did I have to be a person who drinks soda in my new life? Why!?

I put the soda in the sink so it can't cause anymore trouble, but I do NOT put the cap back on because that would be way too responsible at this point.

I start moving things on the counter so I can be sure I've sopped up all the soda. One of the objects that must be moved is the knife block I never use because those knives are too sharp and I like to saw through things with a dull little knife. Anyway, I pull the knife block forward so I can get to the soda underneath and behind it.

The soda is mostly under control. I have used up almost all my paper towels, which is so hypocritical considering how careful I am about recycling. I decide that at this point what I could really use is Scotch, but I haven't even had lunch so maybe I should just stick with the Goddamn soda. I open the cabinet—

And this time the cabinet door catches on the biggest knife in the knife block, causing the block to tip forward. Sharp knives that I consider too sharp for use are now leaping off the counter towards my bare feet.

I shriek and just barely manage to hop out of the way while simultaneously catching the remaining knives (by their handles!!) so that they don't get any ideas.

Carefully, I put the knives back. I wipe down the counters. I pour myself a glass of soda and I sit down and write this post.

I do not put the cap back on.

And THAT is how my day is going. Cheers.

UPDATE 1:32 PM: I just nearly sliced my finger off while attempting to remove the pit from an avocado, which perfectly illustrates why I only use this one dull knife that we found in our first apartment. I am now afraid to go into the kitchen, you guys.

Edit: Don't worry, Aunt A. I don't really drink Scotch in the middle of the day. That would be wasteful. I generally stick with coffee and candy. Lots of candy.

6 comments:

  1. Dear Jennifer,

    You may have noticed I selected 'anonymous' as my alias. WRONG. I'm not 'anonymous'. I just don't want to be crawled by Google / Bing / Yahoo / .

    ANYWAYS, I can really empathize and appreciate the angst you have for today. Not only am I trying, might I add tremendously, to get over the unforeseeable 'ghosting' of boy X, but coworker Z, who has a keen affliction for the bright and shiney new FISH food truck outside my office, decidedly stepped on my foot inside said office elevator. WINNING. Me? No, no. Him. Please, at least I still have my dignity, or do I mean breath mints. Maybe I mean breath mints, because he certainly missed the boat on retrieving his own self-serving pack from the office snack room.

    Now, this leaves me to pick up the pieces. Pieces of my toe polish that needs to now be redone, that is. Way to go today. Quit the hatery any time now.

    Sincerely yours,
    Kasey

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  2. "Pieces of my toe polish that needs to now be redone." Hilarious and tragic. I hope you can use this as an excuse to get a fresh pedicure.

    Oh, TODAY. You are such a scoundrel. Enough with the hatery. Also, earthquakes and hurricanes? Come on, now. What ever happened to subtlety?

    Kasey, thanks for sharing with the group. Let's just aim for keeping all of our fingers and toes and toenails, at least until tomorrow.

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  3. You are the type of person who refers to soda as soda instead of referring to soda as pop (like a weirdo). That makes for a great day.

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  4. ...is it bad that this made me laugh really hard?

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  5. whaddaya, absolutely not!! Laughing was the preferred response. I was laughing too. When I spilled the soda the second time--in the OPPOSITE direction--it was slapstick at its finest.

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  6. Jazz, I think that whole pop vs soda is a regional thing. And some people just call it all Coke, which is weird. I prefer to call it Dr. Soda.

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