panties, and tires, and fire - oh my

School is underway, and I have oodles of free time to preen and run amok. Minutes after the bus pulled away Tuesday, I lapped up tables of new book releases, drunk on my freedom after 10 years. Then I obviously ticked someone off and my life, Hex 2.0, began.

Let me explain.

It started with my doctor's appointment yesterday. Sure, the news could have been worse, but a quick glance around the waiting room and I felt like donning a party hat and feeling ever so sorry for myself. Me and my grannies were kicking it old skool, lounging around on the tall seats, the ones built for the ladies that can't get up anymore and the men that love them (insert your own Viagra joke here). I am usually pretty optimistic, but this time, I felt sad, pathetic.

Then I saw my flat tire. Well, it wasn't too bad so I decided to suck it up and drag my sorry butt down to Les Schwab, fixer of tires. I was feeling smug and right, taking care of my car all by myself until one of the employees fondled my tire and refused to fix it because it was bald, so bald it was too big of a liability. So. What brand of tires should I put you down for? So you don't cause a five car pile up on the freeway and die a painful, fiery death. I took his suggestion to get my husband on the phone, but because he's a busy man, I ended up leaving him a message; I left frustrated, caught between my fear of dying and my lack of tire expertise.

(But no worries, I cheered myself on, the day will surely improve.)

I drove away, temporarily filled the slow-leaking, death trap tire and went to buy some panties because panties do not automatically renew, like my Blockbuster movie pass, and have to be replaced from time to time. Mid-pantie purchase, Greg chimed in and told me he had some words with the manager about my 'experience' at the ol' tire shoppe and the manager apologized and invited me to ask for him personally because he'd love to help me, surely he would, while I dodge incoming stale popcorn, compliments of the staff.

Gee. Thanks.

But if you need further evidence that I am cursed, just you wait, because my luck runneth over.

After working out this morning, I stepped out of my grimy duds and was just about to hop in the shower when I noticed one of my energy saving bulbs was about to flicker out. I turned around, and griped aloud about how they are supposed to last a long time, and save the planet and expressed my personal disappointment. When turned back, I marveled at the power of my words, for the light, it was on again. Or so I thought until it burst into flames. Fire. Inches from the ceiling, and I am naked. OH. THE. JOYS. (Sorry purveyor of joy. I couldn't resist usurping your words.)

I hit the switch, ran down the hall and grabbed one of Zack's errant water bottles. I stood in the dark, dowsed the melted candle and laughed.

At least the next time someone asks what I do all the damn day, I will have a good answer; I don't think they can beat 'nude firefighter'.



fire tires panties hex bad luck getting old


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