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OTOH, I don't exactly blame them. I woke up at 3:25, groaning, feeling hot ... but obviously the magic presence of Diva atop my head allowed me to fall back to sleep immediately, waking up to the alarm at ::groans:: 5:20. But the good thing is that I was able to do things at a sedate pace, leaving home minutes before 8, tromping through a mess of high, wet snow in the garden. Luckily it wasn't cold and my minivan showed up within a minute.
And then we were on our way, with me bouncing around in one vehicle until I arrived at Brian's by the lake. Then we were on our way to the next city over. I was like a kid in the big Polish supermarket. I didn't think I'd gone out-of-control, but I ended up filling two fabric shopping carts on wheels, a cloth bag and a plastic store bag. Oops? But-but-but I have 6 packages of pierogi, jellied tongue and pork, pickled herring, two types of pickled red peppers, 3 jars of pickled mushrooms and 4 other jars. Also 10 tetra-litres of yummy sounding juices, freshly baked rye bread, poppyseed roll, two boxes of chocolate and two packages of flavoured wafers. That's not a lot now, is it?
After all of that, we were just in time to beat the lunch rush at Peter's, a restaurant we both like. Mind you, I only ate a quarter of my lunch: the giant smoked meat-on-rye sandwich with fries and coleslaw, along with a side order of onion rings. Then we were back on the highway headed to my place. When we got in (and Brian had carried everything in), he put the old microwave on the floor, covered it with the black rubber matting and lifted the new mini-fridge (with ALL of its glass jar contents!) up on top. Oh, it's much better, even if the door swings the wrong way. [If I weren't so tired, I'd make a joke here.] It's just a titch wobbly because the fridge is wider than the microwave. Okay, okay, I'll be delicate when near it.
When Brian left, we were both wiped out. I perked up a bit with a Coke. Watched the news and my game shows. Today I'm thoroughly confused, not knowing what day it is. Tomorrow, though, MUST be my writing day, even if I'm only persevering for my own sense of relevance. Until then, my aching joints are communicating to you from space ... because, in space, nobody can hear you scream!
And then we were on our way, with me bouncing around in one vehicle until I arrived at Brian's by the lake. Then we were on our way to the next city over. I was like a kid in the big Polish supermarket. I didn't think I'd gone out-of-control, but I ended up filling two fabric shopping carts on wheels, a cloth bag and a plastic store bag. Oops? But-but-but I have 6 packages of pierogi, jellied tongue and pork, pickled herring, two types of pickled red peppers, 3 jars of pickled mushrooms and 4 other jars. Also 10 tetra-litres of yummy sounding juices, freshly baked rye bread, poppyseed roll, two boxes of chocolate and two packages of flavoured wafers. That's not a lot now, is it?
After all of that, we were just in time to beat the lunch rush at Peter's, a restaurant we both like. Mind you, I only ate a quarter of my lunch: the giant smoked meat-on-rye sandwich with fries and coleslaw, along with a side order of onion rings. Then we were back on the highway headed to my place. When we got in (and Brian had carried everything in), he put the old microwave on the floor, covered it with the black rubber matting and lifted the new mini-fridge (with ALL of its glass jar contents!) up on top. Oh, it's much better, even if the door swings the wrong way. [If I weren't so tired, I'd make a joke here.] It's just a titch wobbly because the fridge is wider than the microwave. Okay, okay, I'll be delicate when near it.
When Brian left, we were both wiped out. I perked up a bit with a Coke. Watched the news and my game shows. Today I'm thoroughly confused, not knowing what day it is. Tomorrow, though, MUST be my writing day, even if I'm only persevering for my own sense of relevance. Until then, my aching joints are communicating to you from space ... because, in space, nobody can hear you scream!
