19 April 2013

Post #80

I lost the remote for my bedroom TV the other night due to a nightmare I really would like to forget, chucked it in my frantic quest to wake-up.  I figured,  fuck it...I'll just browse on my iPad instead of getting out of bed, turning on the television...fuck, I am exhausted just thinking about it.  Plus, I procrastinate like a motherfucker.  Why do today, what you can do tomorrow?  Last night rolls around and I have a bit of booze in me and suddenly I must have it...like that late night Filly B's carne asada burrito.

The quest began.  I scoped out the entire room.  Looked for dents in the walls and such where it might have crashed and landed, no such luck.  It took me seconds to realize that I had done it, I had somehow manged to curve ball the remote underneath my goddamn bed.  The rest goes something like this...

Maneuver A: "Under the dust ruffle shuffle."

Doesn't work.  So, I actually went full belly to the ground and peeked around.  Fucks.  It's against the wall directly below the center of my headboard.  There's no way in hell I am going to reach it by hand without getting stuck under my bed.  Time to get crafty.

Maneuver C: Savers back scratcher, $1.99.

My next thought was, why in the flying fuck do I have a used, thrift store, back scratcher?  Nasty.  Then I saw the date purchased.  Looks like it might have been a late birthday present for my sister which she obviously, promptly returned to me.  Oh well, it worked.  Remote procured.  Wiggled my way to almost crawling, and that's when my "fuck it" ring get's caught on the berber carpet.

Before the destruction.

The damn ring unraveled like a cheap sweater.  Not the "it" (nope that's just fine) it was the "fuck" ring.  I somehow managed to free my hand and left it stuck in the carpet.  Then, I decided to drown my sorrows in the Food Channel for the next hour.  While also trying desperately to figure out a way to have a half-way normal conversation with my jeweler about how I need him to rework my ring to say the f-bomb again.  Classy.  I fell asleep as that was a job for today and now a job for tomorrow.  

It's the Shit,

Katie E. Eshelman

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