More scenes from my jacked up world

I guess I get used to it but still sometimes I am surprised by the ridiculous things that happen in my life. Today is a good example

It started this morning when I woke up and it was 52 degrees in my house. That is a little nippy even for me. But I will be damned if I turn the heat on the same week I turned the A/C off. Plus, I am hardly ever here, and when I am, I sleep with big smelly heat providing dogs. I dont need the furnace. Good thing too since I am in a war with my propane provider and am ready to carry through on my three year old threats to quit their asses. This will require the propane to run out so the propane tank can go away and a new one come in--so every morning when I turn on the shower, I hold my breath that there will actually be hot water. I am way too stubborn though to give up already paid for propane, so I play this stupid game of getting as close to out as possible before I call someone.

Today, though, I had hot water. I thought that was a good thing until I got in there and tried to shave my legs, something I also do every day. Do not ask me why, but I go nutty if I do not shave every day. Little known fact about me--and kind of odd since I probalby do not brush my hair more than twice a week. I am a little sore from training with the Bad Boy yesterday--that is what I have named my new trainer. By the time I put my left foot up on the wall, my hamstrings were screaming. I was in legitimate fear that I would not get out of the shower at all, and would be stuck in there when the propane finally ran out.

I managed to live through that, and moseyed down to the barn here at the house to check on the Fonzinator. I bought him some chopped timothy and oat hay and I wanted to see how he was getting along with it. He loves it--so much so that he knocked the dish out of my hand, and pitched it all over me. You dont know me well if you think I bothered to change clothes before moving on. I did not. I do not have time for that sort of bidness.

Next I ran my before work errand--returning a bucket of mouse babies to the elevator where I buy feed. A bucket of babies, I said. That is not something that comes up very often, but if it is going to happen, it will happen to me. When I opened a bag of feed, I found a number of peculiar things in it, but the most offensive was a batch of teeny mouse babies. Cooked, or something unappetizing. Must not have been cooked, mom pointed out, or they would have been dried out and they most definitely were not. They were sort of gelatinous, which is the absolute worst condition I think anything can be in. They were little bald babies, but had whiskers and toenails and I suspect they will keep showing up in my nightmares for a while. Anyway, bucket of babies delivered with not nearly the reception I thought they were entitled to.

On to work, I went. It was a regular day--lunch with my mom, finishing an aggravated battery brief, and putting the finishing touches on some thievery, read about some good old fashioned killing, I solved a pile of problems, and handled 30-11 phone calls of varying natures, most of which were about how the world is out to get someone. I do not know what these other people are whining about, I am the one who had to drive a bucket of freaking babies around town like they were Miss damn Daisy. I am clearly the one with drama in her life. Mostly today, I felt effective, focused, good at my job, and totally on the ball. That is probably why today strikes me as an odd one--I did not feel at all like everything was spinning out of control and I had to chase it down and tackle it. That despite the phone ringing off the hook, everyone needing something and the physical condition of my office being enough to make me need a sedative.

I was on such a roll, I worked late. I do that a lot, but it messes me up re: the rest of my life when it gets dark and I am still there. It mixes me completely up. Watch me go back there in the morning and find out I messed up everything I touched--I swear I have the anti-Midas touch.

The Bad Boy was so proud of me at the gym he said to me "Look at your balls!" At first, I found that peculiar, but I have decided to embrace it.

Look at my balls, indeed