First of all, I apparently can't make jokes anymore. My family can no longer smell what I'm steppin' in. Recently, I saw an ad for DJ Hero for Wii, so I told my husband to e-mail a link to Amazon's listing for DJ Hero with a note that said, "this is what Kate wants for Christmas." I thought they would immediately get it -- that they would figure out that it's funny because my cousins are giant dorks who have been obsessed with spinning forever. I thought wrong. Damn near ended up with a $120 video game appendage that plays {C}rap.
Then last Monday at the gym, I realized that my razor was getting dull -- it was just taking too much to get my legs hair-free. I got out of the shower, detached the blade from the handle, made the shot into the trash can from several feet away (the crowd goes wild), and in my left hand is the blade. I threw away the damn handle! Doi! I'm still at the gym, so NO, there is no going in after it. I just went to the store and bought a new handle.
I can't remember all of the other brain-fuzz things I managed to do over the course of the next 8 days, but I do know it included things like tearing the bed apart on Sunday night at 9:30 so that our builder could hoist the box-spring up through the gaping hole on the second floor of our house (the box-spring does not fit up the stairs). I would like to point out that it was VITAL that the box-spring be READY to be hoisted as of Sunday night at 10:00, and that said box-spring is still taking up space in our living room. This adventure also included sucking up a sock in the vacuum cleaner causing 100% blockage.
We are 6 months away from our 1st anniversary and I am grateful that my husband has not decided to divorce me, yet.
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