breaking bad

by Bella Rum

Women Washing Clothes by a StreamWe now have one good eye between us. My left eye is the only eye in the house that isn’t oozing something. My right eye, the one that received the injection, is crusty when I wake and a bride’s favorite shade of pink. I went to a doctor yesterday and got a script for conjunctivitis. Everything will improve shortly. Yes, it will.

Our microwave oven broke. Yep! We are going to replace every appliance in the entire house before we put it on the market. Call us the appliance people. We are knee deep in brand-spanking-new or ready-to-break appliances. There is no in between. We bought them five minutes ago, or they have one foot in the grave. I lie awake and listen to their labored breathing during the night.

H went on Best Buy’s site and chose a microwave that’s similar to the one we have: same size, same color, over-the-range type, good price. BUT they charge $150 to install it. H swears that one of the reviewers claimed he was 65 and installed it himself. This and the $150 installation fee have inspired H to install it himself. I see a future post on this.

They didn’t have the microwave we wanted in the store, and it won’t arrive until next Friday. I never realized how much I used that thing. I was the last person in North America to get a microwave. I just couldn’t see how I would use it. I’m not very imaginative about these types of things, but now I’m like, How ever will I achieve the exact desired temperature for my coffee?

That’s the good and bad of new inventions. We live our lives comfortably for eons without the newfangled thing. When we finally break down and get it, we become dependent on it. Life no longer seems as good without it. Then there are those inventions they convince us we cannot live without. We use them once or twice, and then we send them up to the attic, down to the basement or out to the garage. I wonder how many thigh masters and rice steamers are stored in attics across America this very minute. Come on. How many?

I gaze lovingly at my washer and dryer, gently caress their dials and whisper, “I love you. I need you. You make me whole. Promise you will never leave me.” I just know the damn things are going to break before we get out of here. Every time I put a load of clothes in, I fully expect to return to water running all over the floor and down the steps. I swear, I will get a washboard and find a stream.

A roof guy is coming on Monday, or is it Tuesday? We have two closets under the eaves in our bedroom. They’re for storage because we need more junk in our lives. Rain is drip, drip, dripping on Halloween decorations, wrapping paper, etc. Can you hear it?

All I need to cap this post off is an impending invasion of disgusting bugs that leave their carcasses all over the place. Um… you say what?

I feel like I should give you some chocolate for enduring this post. You are my treasured friends.

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