my life as a mutual of omaha commercial

Saturday, mar. 1, 2008   |   0 comments

This weekend got off to a tuff start when Marbles knocked a full cup of coffee all over my bedside collection of books and letters and hair clips and Sidekick, a minor disaster that seemed exponentially major because the coffee I needed to face it was otherwise occupied staining the carpet and sealing all the pages of my magazines together.

Then I tried to make myself oatmeal but accidentally sprinkled pepper on it instead of salt and had to start all over.

Then later the old Safeway bag I was using to clean out the litter box split open, unleashing an unholy rain of cat shit and piss crystals all over the bathroom floor.

And just now, while I was standing in the kitchen chopping up a bundle of tender farmer's market broccoli (Item #7 in Operation March Means More: 14 Things I Need More of According to Oprah), the glass dome over the light in the ceiling fell off its moorings and -- missing knocking my block off by maybe two RCHs -- hit the deck in a glass- and nerve-shattering explosion that spewed shards of doom twenty feet in all directions. Marco heroically swooped in with a broom to sweep up the worst of the crash site while my bare feet and I stood very, very still. And then he brought me some shoes and I retreated to the other room to nurse my fight-or-flight-addled nerves while he sucked all the cracks in the floor with vacuum. Even so, we've still spent the rest of the night doing our own little community theatre reenactment of Die Hard as we locate surprise new slivers of glass with our feet.

Marco: "I guess at least now we know the solution to last week's great Mystery of the Screw Found Rolling on Kitchen Floor?"