That's like when eight people simultaneously employ onomatopoeia to express their discomfort due to the low temperature.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the joke with which I've elected to make my triumphant return to blogging.
Since we last spoke, I've started like a hundred blog posts and then deleted them because they were garbage. OH that reminds me - one of them was not garbage and I need to finish writing it soon. ARE YOU INTRIGUED?!? Excellent. You're falling right into my trap.
Then this morning was terrible and whenever something is terrible, I like to write about it so I can look back on it as something funny instead of something that made me want to retreat back under the covers, never to be seen or heard from again.
It all started when I tried to do laundry. I loaded the washing machine as soon as I got home from work yesterday, and then bragged to Sarah an hour or so later about what a genius I was for remembering to move everything over to the dryer. And not only that; I did dishes! I cleaned off the table! I WAS A HOMEMAKER!
There were a couple of towels in with my clothes, so before I got into the shower this morning, I opened the dryer to see if it needed to run a little longer. Turns out it needed to run a LOT longer, because apparently yesterday I was too busy singing my own praises to be bothered with something as trivial as PUSHING THE ON BUTTON.
This was much more than a blow to my ego. If you know me at all, you know that I don't just do laundry for the heck of it. I do laundry exclusively as a last resort. So to answer your question, that's why I'm wearing swimsuit bottoms as underwear. It's kind of weird that you noticed, but whatever.
The other thing is the weather. I've known this day was coming for a while, but this morning I was neither mentally nor emotionally prepared for a high of 34 degrees. As per usual, I got into my car with exactly eight minutes to get to work. My windshield was covered with thick water droplets from last night's rain, so I flipped on my windshield wipers to clear them away - except that these were not mere water droplets; they were cold, hard, unyielding mounds of ice, and they would not be moved.
I searched around in my car for an ice scraper but came up empty-handed. I could have gone inside and gotten a bowl full of warm water to pour over the windshield, but that would mean disturbing the dogs and having to treat them again, which would mean getting cheap peanut butter all over my hands because the jar's almost empty and a certain magnificently bearded someone who lives in my house has spoiled them to the point that they are no longer satisfied by Milkbones that have not been dipped in peanut butter.
So instead I just stayed in the car, wasting antifreeze and ruining my windshield wipers little by little, wondering all the while, "Where is my dad and his spatula when you need him?"*
Finally, on my way into the building (twenty minutes late, thankyouverymuch) I dropped my lunch bag and got taco soup everywhere.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm due to fall down the stairs.
*He pioneered this innovative method of ice-scraping in the winter of 2010 as we were preparing to drive back to Colorado. What can I say? Tim Howrey thinks outside the box.