A Stinky Fridge and a Car on Fire

May I whine some more? Thank you.

I came home from two weeks away to find the temperature inside the refrigerator a balmy 68 degrees. Who knew cottage cheese could become gun-metal grey?

I came home to find one car screaming like a murdered rabbit when you start her up, then emit a world of white smoke and an acrid we’re-about-to-see flames-here stink.

I came home to find internet takin’ the fifth, saying nada, nothing and my male cat standing nearby looking guilty. “Never mind,” I told him because I am a saint. "It  happened to me once during some ill-advised surfing; a single visit to CelebrityMorgue.com where they’ve got pictures of something that looks like spaghetti coming out of a dead guys’ bottom and the whole thing crashed like a chandelier with its wires cut." I told the cat all this but I do wonder what site the cat went to but I didn’t ask: a man who’s had his penis removed is a man who needs a little room. (see March archives)

You come home from two weeks away and all this is amiss and you’re STILL jet-lagged and now you're fat too and you have to meet the mechanic, bring your 88-year-old uncle to the heart doc, feed the both of you get your hair dyed this wildly improbable color you phony, you pathetic excuse for an all-natural girl, then oh God GO ON TV to talk about your new book probably looking like those newscasters in the original Batman movie who have to go live with all their zits and blotches on display because that crazy Joker has poisoned the city’s whole store of beauty supplies, waaaah.

Really, that last part will probably be the best part of the day because interviewers are always so glad to have a guest that isn’t frozen-mouthed with nerves or else turgid with self-importance that the two of you always have fun  just talking off the tops of your heads so why don't I SHUT UP AND LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE?

OK NOW I’m ready to jump into my pantyhose and take on the day. :-)