So, after pottery class, I am greeted by torrential rain. And of course I need gas. Nothing like a nice cold outdoor shower to cool you waaaay down. Feet soaked by the mini rapids shooting past my car. The road to the gas station is completely covered in water, if you can’t see the road you don’t have to stay in the lines, right?…it’s like a toddler coloring. The gas station side of town is plunged in darkness, can I even get gas? I have to say there are few things sadder than darkened golden arches, no after class snack for me. *sigh*
Luckily, my gas station must have some back-up power. I read the warning messages, before getting gas… turn off your engine, don’t use your cell phone, beware of static electricity. No warnings about getting gas in the middle of a lightening storm. I figure I am safe. Because there is no such thing as a stupid warning, if it’s not there, it’s not dangerous. Don’t you like those signs that ask: Hey, did you remember to bring your baby or did you forget and leave them in the sweltering car? That’s the job I want, writing warning signs for the clueless.
Fortunately, I survived the gas station/electrical storm scenario.
Only to risk death by hyperthermia as my soaked body enters my icy cold refrigerated house.
Finally AC…now that summer is almost over. On the flip side, I won’t freeze this winter.
And I got into Battle of the Bowls!
I feel a little dull now. Working on another room. Contemplating repairing drywall cracks, caulking, painting….The most challenging thing is I am doing some exterior painting. My friends look at me like I am nuts. But really what is the difference? Paintbrush and a can of paint. Seems pretty basic to me. Even the guy I hired to get me started suggested I could have this young spry guy do the outside painting. Hopefully, this is not one of those times when I go man, what was I thinking. It really is harder to brush on paint in the elements.
I am feeling a little cold, I need to turn down that AC, feel like I am in a refrigerator.
So five AC guys later…still no central air.
I know most people think if they could just win the lottery they would buy a gigantic house. ME…I think, hey, I could fix my house. Maybe I could buy a skinny little heat and air guy…oh, yeah, I think that is called human trafficking. Just my luck, I win the lottery and immediately end up in prison. I would be featured on that show about people who win the lottery and ruin their lives.
I am sure if I ended up on TV it would be some terrible show like “Snapped”, “Hoarders”, “48 Hours Mystery”, or “Biggest Loser”. I am imagining myself standing on that podium in a sports bra. Followed by a tearful story about my emotional eating due to abandonment by heat and air men. Anonymity not such a bad place to live.