Apocalypse Now

I spent the better part of the day preparing for the apocalypse.  Then Greggory King informed me that the apocalypse is a revelation, not the end of the world.  So now, I’m not sure where I am.

It started this morning.

An inexplicable man landed against my 5th floor office window with a thud.  I was sitting at my desk minding my own business and hard at work when it happened.  A few minutes earlier, I thought I had seen a rope swing by.  But when I looked out of the window I could see no signs that it had actually happened.  I figured I just imagined it.  Then BOOM.  There he was.  He smiled and waved.  I was pretty sure he was the Grim Reaper.  Turned out he was actually a window washer.  At this point, closing the blinds just didn’t seem right.  So I went about my business, and thankfully, he was gone about a minute later.

All the way home, Eepod the Ipod had been skipping songs. This has been happening for two days.  I thought I would plug it in to my computer, and try to trouble shoot the problem.  After spending about an hour on the Ipod support website, and rebooting my computer about 15 times because it crashed every time I plugged in my Ipod, it became quite clear that this was the end for Eepod the Ipod.  May she rest in peace.

Now, while I was in the midst of trying to get Eepod up and running, the internet stopped working.  So I reset all the funny little black boxes numerous times, rebooting the computer numerous times, and finally admitted defeat.  

I then went to make a phonecall… but there was no dial tone.  I hung up, and tried again. And again, and again.  Eventually, I made the calls from my cell phone.

At this point, I’m feeling pretty cut off from the rest of the world.  No ipod, no phone, and no computer.  And if that doesn’t signal the beginning of the end of the world, I don’t know what does.

Baker Baker

I want to decorate cakes.  This does not mean that I want to bake them.  However, in order to actively participate in cake decorating class, one must bring a cake to class.
The thought of me making a cake from scratch made me laugh.  So I picked up a box of Duncan Hines Cake mix.  Should be easy enough.

I was proud of my efforts and thought I had done an excellent job.  I put my cake in the oven and went to watch some TV.  No more than 10 minutes later, there was a funny burning smell.  I went to investigate.
Apparently, I had filled the cake pan too full.  There was now cake batter on the floor of my oven.  The burning smell was the cake that was burning on the element.  I grabbed a spatula, and scraped it off the element.  The cake that was on the bottom of the oven was a nice fluffy goldeny brown mess.  I cleaned up, assured myself that everything would be okay, and returned to the living room.

About 5 minutes later, it was overflowing again.  Repeat of previous paragraph.

FINALLY… the cake has stopped overflowing, is golden brown on the top and the knife I stuck in the middle came out nice and clean.   I take the cake out of the oven, leave it to cool, and head out for a  bit.

By the time I return to my house, the inside of the cake has fallen in.  Significantly.  To the point where I have a nice crispy outside, a lovely golden brown top and a very soupy middle of the cake.  Garbage it was unsalvageable.

I didn’t make it to cake decorating class the next day.  I did not have a cake to decorate.
My last class is on Saturday, and this time I got smart – I just phoned in an order to the Superstore bakery.  One cake, without icing for pickup, please.  

Hey, I want to decorate cakes, not bake them.

The Sound Of

The sound in her living room is much different than the sound in my living room.  So different, in fact, that I had to question it.

“Are those bird sounds real?”

She looked confused.  So was I.  I couldn’t remember the last time I heard birds chirping.  I thought she had switched to a nature sounds CD.

I live close to the corner of two main roads close to both Emergency rooms in the city.  At my house, you hear sirens and horns honking all day and all night.  You can always hear cars, and motorcycles. I have upstairs neighbors, and neighbors on the deck that’s by my window. Right now, I’m unintentionally eavesdropping on their conversation.

But at her house, you look out the window and see trees.  And if you sit in silence, you hear birds chirping.  And yes, they’re real.

I think this is a sign that I need to get out of the city a little more often.

Free to Good Home

Sales Associate Available. Apply within.

That was the sign I saw in the window of an upscale menswear store downtown.  Does it strike anyone else as funny?

It made me laugh because the first thing that came to my mind is this.

“Yes, this is ____(Insert name of Sales Associate here).  And he is available.  I’ll need you to fill out this application to determine if you are a suitable match for him.  Please state your intentions clearly.  If he’s not your satisfaction, perhaps you can leave your contact info and we will notify you if someone else becomes available.”

Part of me wants to go in and apply.  Just for laughs, because they’re probably expecting someone to apply for a position as a sales associate.  Oops.

Karma Chameleon

This morning, I was inexplicably itchy when I woke up.  After my shower, and a good slathering of Aveeno lotion, I felt much better.

I picked out a t-shirt and a sweater and went to work.  I was not itchy.

When I got home from work, I changed into some casual clothes.  My long sleeve green t-shirt was fresh out of the wash.  I put it on without thinking much about it.  An hour later, I was inexplicably itchy again.  

And that’s when I put this all together – it’s the laundry soap.  I ran out of laundry soap last week.  I figured Megan wouldn’t really notice if I took enough soap to wash two loads of laundry.  So that’s what I did, two loads with my soap, two loads with hers.  

And as you’ve probably guessed by now, all the clothes that are making me itchy were washed in her soap.  I didn’t really believe in karma, until today.  Stealing soap leads to itchy Tracy.  Got it.

Feet First

I had the feeling that someone was watching me.  I spun my office chair around, and sure enough, my boss was standing in the doorframe.  

We exchanged morning pleasantries and then she explained what really drew her out of her office.  She had ventured out to see what shoes I had decided to wear to work that day.  
Apparently, she had been impressed with the weekly rotation of shoes and wanted to see what else I had in store.

I laughed.  It was a rainy day.  I had walked to work in Red rubber boots with white polka dots.  When I got to work, I switched to navy blue Birkenstocks with the funky beige pattern.  I opted for those, because they were already at work in my desk drawer.  They weren’t my first choice for the day, but they were easy and comfortable.

So now the week starts again.  I haven’t done any of the usual planning ahead of the footwear for the week.  And now that I know someone is watching, I’m under even a little more pressure.  But I know one thing, with the right shoes I’m able to put my best foot forward.  

The Sound of Silence

I’m not used to things being so quiet.

Megan is sitting about 5 feet away from me and I can hear the click, click, click of her laptop keyboard.

Finnigan is wandering around the apartment meowing loudly.  He is saying hello and vying for our attention.

I’m sitting here typing away.  Occasionally, I will sigh loudly.

Megan and I make random conversation.  Mostly acknowledged as opposed to perpetuated.

Shhh… it’s oh so quiet.
This is how things normally are around here.  Except for one thing—there is usually a steady stream of music coming from my laptop.  But not tonight. It’s not working.  And if tomorrow, when I turn on my laptop and it still won’t sing to me, I’ll let this be known as the day the music died.  Can I have a moment of silence in memory, please?