jakorte's blog

5:10 PM: I actually had a pretty mellow day at work. Kept to myself, stayed out of trouble: I was pleased.

Stopped to get the mail on the way home. That’s when the fun began…

I dropped my utility bill and spun to catch it horrified to see that it had bulls-eye aim on the only puddle for miles. In my rush to retrieve it, I somehow ended up stepping on it. For some reason that stymied me – you know – big disaster, no problem, small one? Melt down! I took one of those deep relaxing breaths I learned in the "How to Relax by Exercising at Your Desk" stress-reduction work seminar this morning. I felt better.

I lifted my toes off the soaked envelope and then almost got rear-ended. Literally. As I’m bent over grabbing the what was sure to be offensive electric bill, a compact blue car with a cracked and rusty bumper almost bumped me off. Literally. Scared the pants off me. Not literally, thank goodness. I imagine that would have landed me in a bit more trouble, or given the driver a heart-attack. He stopped and looked sheepish. I couldn’t muster up a squinty-eyed glare since my eyes were still wide-round astonished that I was still standing. Nothing like viewing the world rushing up from behind you from between your legs.

Said legs were a little shaky, but the speed limit is only 15 mph, so I managed to drive the rest of the way home and park appropriately. I gave myself bravos and kudos for not bursting into tears. My two sweet kitties were there to meet me at the door. Harley Blu gives love and Fred just bumps and runs. Still, it’s a ritual, just as surveying the living room each evening for monster damage is. Nice. No damage! I suppose you could count the slightly mangled magazine cover of the sexiest man alive as damage, but that was yesterday’s damage and sometimes I get tired of putting the magazines back on the coffee table. Especially when I know they’ll end up back on the floor within minutes.

Off I went to get ready to really relax. In the middle of offing the work clothes and on-ing the casual clothes,I hear a thud, some ceramic tinkling and a crash. I fear I already know what has happened, but still, I’m hoping for the best. My antique chicken canisters, a wedding gift from a friend’s father, are on the counter bar that surrounds the kitchen. Until yesterday my littlest fiend had not yet discovered the kitchen counter. I discovered he’d discovered it when I watched him jump from the couch to the counter. Ok, that was the only safe surface left in the house. Anything I didn’t want him to get into was there. So, last early evening, I spent some time putting things away and made one of those preventative parental-type moves. I moved the couch about two more inches away from the feline landing pad. Blu tried it once more, and missed entirely.

I thought that would cure him of his dare devil ways. And as I mentioned earlier, nothing was amiss when I arrived home, so I thought my simple plan worked well.I’m now theorizing that the four-legged brat must have been trying to make the leap all day. He waited for me to get home to come within grasping millimeters and flailing, managed to paw-clear the counter as he fell just a whisker short. Nothing broke, unbelievably! Good thing I learned about the Darth Vader relaxer breaths.

My next challenge was to assemble and operate my new food processor – a new necessity since I won’t have any chewing surfaces available in my mouth until May. I plan to pulverize my proteins. Anyway, I read the manual (yes, I am a girl.) I assembled and prepped and pushed the required buttons in the required order (which I knew because I read the manual) and … nothing. No clicking, no whirring, not even a hint that it might kick into gear. Assuming user error (because I am a girl) I disassembled, reassembled, and… nothing. This time the ferocity of my Darth Vader breathing kind freaked Freddie out. She took off. Blu still sat there hoping I’d drop something. So, I disassembled, repacked, tucked my receipt into the lid and set the whole box of nothing by the door.

It’s now about 6:00 PM and I am in need of food to keep my sugar from dropping as my stress is rising. My planned dinner remained unprocessed so I went for the emergency can of tuna. Opened and creatively mixed with hummus and a little greek yogurt, I found I needed a cool down before I ate. The best way I know how to do that is to try and find the humor in situations and then relay them humorously to friends.

I went to find my phone, texted and giggled, got over myself and turned into the galley kitchen only to find a fur face had found a way onto the counter and was already halfway through contents of my bowl. How could I forget that the counter was now fair game? I pushed him off and growled as best I could. Harley Blu took off into the laundry room making a beeline for behind the washer. I closed the door to the room, and went in search of my 'fraidy cat Miss Freddie. I gave her the rest of the tuna sort-of-salad. I grabbed a protein shake from the pantry, sat down at the dining room table and practiced my Darth Vader huffing.

Eventually Blu pushed his way out from behind the bifold and came to sit lovingly and longingly by my feet. I growled again. I think he got the message that the chalky no-other-option protein shake was mine, and I wasn’t planning on sharing. For a moment I thought a nice warm bath might be a good idea. However, I decided I’d best not tempt fate. The new plan is me and a book on the couch. I should be safe for the rest of the night. Should be. Good evening. Over and out and done. God Bless. Deep Vader Breaths... 6:30 PM