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How To (Not) Be an Adult.

Ever have one of those days where, right in the middle of something, your brain is all, “What in the fuck is WRONG with you?  How do you even manage to remember to put on pants?”  This can’t just be me, right?  Other people have to have those moments where they think, “Hmm.  I’m not sure what choices led me to this exact moment, but I definitely regret them at this particular juncture in my life.”  I’m going to assume that this is true for everyone.   However, it occurred to me when this thought jumped into my subconscious several times in the same evening that perhaps I need more adult supervision.

A Night in the Life of the Eternally Perplexed.

  • First thought upon entering the house (and turning all of the lights on,) is “Dammit!  I forgot cat food again.”
  • Spend a few too many minutes wondering if cats can survive 12 more hours without food.  Strongly consider filling the dish with treats and seeing what happens.
  • Flash forward to trying to clean up cat vomit with toilet paper because I also forgot paper towels and head back to the store-that-shall-not-be-named.
  • Ponder the effectiveness of “Stop Only if Pedestrians are Present,” signs in the middle of Chicago Ave.
  • Decide with certainty signs are NOT effective after nearly being knocked airborne by a bitch on a scooter whilst crossing said street.
  • Check weather report – you will not fool me tomorrow, Mother Nature!
  • Seriously, who fucking loses a pair of winter boots?  Especially someone who only owns one pair?
  • Oh, remember when you didn’t feel like changing your shoes at work the last time it snowed and nearly lost your toes to frostbite?  Check under your desk, smartypants.
  • You will not fool me Mother Nature, but apparently you will win.  Again.
  • Hmm, what’s for dinner?
  • Well, not whatever was in THAT container.  Let’s just put that right back where we found it, shall we?
  • Hey, leftover garlic shrimp and pasta!  Surely my husband hasn’t been looking forward to this all night!
  • Hmm.  Not quite enough for the pastatravaganza I was hoping for.  I know, I’ll add some more noodles and saute some garlic and onions to add!
  • Let’s just move this plastic plate to this OTHER burner, out of the way.
  • Singing along, “He was a Skater Boy, said see you later boy!” 
  • I miss Avril LaVigne.
  • Wow, this onion’s taking a long time.  Hope the garlic’s not burning.
  • FIRE!!  PLATE ON FIRE!!!
  • Do we have a fire extinguisher?
  • OF COURSE YOU DON’T YOU FUCKING IDIOT!  YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE A FLASHLIGHT!
  • What’s that type of fire you can’t throw water on??!!!  Is it a stove fire?
  • I have flour!  Should I throw flour on it?
  • GREASE FIRE, DUMMY.  THROW WATER ON IT.
  • Hmm.  That sort of worked.
  • MOVE THE TOWEL.
  • More water.  It’s working!
  • Holy shit, plastic burns quick.
  • GET. A. BIGGER. RECEPTACLE.
  • “The fire’s out, kitties!  It’s safe now!”
  • I loved that plate.
  • Pretty sure those noodles are ruined.  Let me just throw them in the leftovers anyway.
  • Well, now everything you were going to eat is ruined.  Dipshit.

After cleaning up all of the water I had tossed around the kitchen in my manic firefighting attempt, I had a beer and went to bed.  Sometimes, you just have to give up and start over tomorrow.

I’m guessing it’s safe to say that tomorrow isn’t holding a lot of promise of normalcy, either, but I’m sure going to keep trying.

If anyone is surprised it was a Christmas plate, I can't believe you read this far.

If anyone is surprised it was a Christmas plate, I can’t believe you read this far.

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