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Seriously?

I just want the record to show that on this, the day of December 12, 2014, gas prices are $1.97 where I live.

ONE. DOLLAR. NINETY. SEVEN. CENTS.

Please also let the record show that I was nearly on empty this morning, less than a quarter tank, and filled my car to the brim with gas at a DIFFERENT gas station, a few hours before prices dropped.

I paid $2.20.

Head, meet desk.

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I Might Need That Swimsuit After All

When I said I wanted to go swimming, I didn’t mean in my own HOUSE!

I hate my washer. Can I make a new hate list? I’d reaaaally like to make a new hate list. My washer would be at the top of the list. Actually it would probably be just the whole list. I can think of a bunch of reasons why I hate my washing machine.

One of my dogs puked on my couch (thanks, whichever one of you jerks it was) and I cleaned it up with a washcloth. It was gross so I wanted to wash it right away, by itself. In HOT water, of course. I don’t use hot water that much. Our washer is defective, has been ever since we brought the piece of junk home. You have to turn on the hot water hose every time you use it and turn it off when the washer’s done filling up, because some sensor in the washer is broken and it doesn’t send whatever signal it needs to send to tell the water to stop flowing once it starts agitating. I guess it could be worse, at least it’s not the cold water tab, which we use a LOT more. So I start my one-item load of laundry, and decide while I’m over in the kitchen area, let’s sweep all those leaves off our side door patio. While I’m doing that, I hear my husband come home and go over to greet him. He’s talking to my friend! Yay! I start to talk too, of course, and we carry on and be goofs and be merry. Then we disperse to get out of the cold, and the rain sprinkles that are starting to come down. We were talking for over an hour.

I forgot to turn the hot water off.

My kitchen is flooded, and I’m wading in water up to my ankles. I grab the mop and start pushing it out the side door (at least that is very handy, I don’t know what I would have done if we didn’t have a door to just push all this water out of). I ask my husband to grab the broom and help me. He does for a little while, and then decides to sit on the counter and watch me work. He says I need to stop forgetting to turn the hot water off. One, I rarely use the hot water so I’m not use to remembering to turn it off, two, this is only the second time this has happened! Oh yeah, I’ve flooded the kitchen before…but it was only for about 10 minutes until I remembered, not over an hour! Oh, wait, while I’m numbering things, three, who is the real scatter brain in this family? Who couldn’t leave post a few days ago because he forgot where he put his wallet, containing ALL our credit cards, our joint bank debit card, and both of his IDs? Who also lost, along with his wallet, his house keys so I had to come rescue him? Who loses his phone every other day, but when I try and call it to help him find it, it’s on silent? Yeah, mister, HUSH.

Last week, my husband was brewing beer. He had been working on it for three hours, beer brewing is a very time-consuming hobby. My extremely intelligent husband went to pour the still boiling hot concoction into a 5-gallon glass carafe. The glass bottom literally melted off. There is beer (and not the good, watered down, ready to drink beer, the concentrated hops, malt, yeast, and various-other-beer-ingredients beer) ALL over the kitchen. We use every towel in our house to clean it up, and then comes the fun part. STICKY. Stickiness everywhere. Stickiness so sticky we actually get a leg workout walking in the kitchen. My husband says, “Ooohh, yeah, I’ve heard this is the worst stickiness to deal with…worse than soda AND beer put together. Probably even worse then melted lollipop stickiness.” So I start mopping. I dip in the bucket, mop, rinse the sticky out in the sink, dip in bucket, repeat. Kitchen is still sticky. I dump the water and try again. I repeat this three times, and give up. Floor is still slightly sticky. I repeat this procedure over three days. Floor is almost tolerable (I am pretty obsessive about my floors being clean, I love to wear socks, and I despise stepping in wet/sticky spots). Anyhow, I promise I’m going somewhere with this story!

I would like to end on a positive note, and list a few reasons why it’s not the end of the world that I flooded my kitchen AGAIN with the devil washer:

1) MY FLOORS AREN’T STICKY ANYMORE! YAY! There was bleach in that load, granted extremely watered down, but still bleach. I think it helped. Why couldn’t I have flooded the kitchen the same afternoon of the beer spilling incident? I will have to remember this “trick” the next time my husband brews beer.

2) The house smells REALLY good. I love my laundry detergent.

3) My dogs didn’t stalk me into the kitchen to beg for food (I wasn’t even eating anything, but they think I was, because people only go into the kitchen to eat, of course) because they don’t like to get their paws wet.

4) While we were socializing, my husband kept putting the broom in the mud and then shaking it at me because he knew I wouldn’t like it, and it would make me run away from him (I was wearing a white skirt, gimme a break!) I wasn’t looking forward to hosing it off, so since we had to use it to sweep out our flood, it’s now clean and I don’t have to hose it down. And it smells good too. And I was able to exact my revenge on my him later by dancing around crazily to Cotton Eye Joe, which he hates.

5) Ummm…my floors aren’t sticky? I am VERY happy about that!