The Day

There is a blog post sitting inside of me, aching to get out.  It wants to be a detailed acknowledgement of the many wonderful things that happen in my day, from the way the morning sunlight transforms a room into rich colors and textures, to the heavenly aroma of toasting rye bread, to the satisfying hum of a washing machine effortlessly cleaning my clothes….

But this is not that day.

Why does my laptop decide that everybody else in the house gets internet except me?  Not cool, dude.  What’s up with shutting it down and starting it up just to get internet?  And what’s really up with refusing to shut down after five minutes of my lonely home screen, forcing me to use the power button in a death-jab?

Why would a pest service company that I called on Friday promise to send somebody out on Saturday which they did but it turned out to be a salesman?  He looked and confirmed that, yes indeed, we do have yellowjackets buzzing around our front door, he’ll send somebody out on Monday.  What the elf?  What did that solve?  Oh, you want me to purchase your comprehensive maintenance plan, also known as the Pay-Us-Up-Front-And-We-Might-Do-Unneccesary-Work-Because-How-Will-You-Ever-Know plan which is five times as much as just treating the problem I have now?  Yeah, think again.  And it’s 4:15 and nobody has shown up to rub out the wasps.

Why does butter taste so good when it’s warm and so weird when it’s cold?

Why can’t all the popcorn kernels pop?  What’s up with the recalcitrant ones at the bottom of the bowl?

Why don’t knitting patterns tell the truth with yardage needed?  Would you like to know how many projects I’ve ended just a few rows short, and that’s not a euphemism like being a few crayons short of a full box?  No?  Well, fine.

Why is everything under the sun premiering tonight?  How can I watch Sleepy Hollow AND Big Bang AND Monday Night Football AND Food Network that I missed last night because of celebrating Younger Daughter’s birthday?

I think that’s enough whining, don’t you agree?

 

 

 

Really.

Really.

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