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Hi. I'm trying to think of another description to put here. Any ideas? I'll try again at 420.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

It's been a long, long day...

..and as soon as my father goes to bed, I'm going to clean the shit out of this condo. I can't do it while he's up because they're watching television in there now. Well, Dad is watching television, Jean is crashed out on her chair. She just narrowly averted being burned on her belly by a cigarette that I picked up off of her shirt as I passed her. The shirt was just starting to smoke, it would have burned a hole through to her stomach within the next 20 seconds if I hadn't walked by when I did.

That's a scary thought. I suppose my father would have put her out before she totally burned up. But, that would have hurt for a long time.

I hate a burn. I'd rather break both of my legs than have a burn. When I burn myself cooking I usually keep my hand in a bowl of ice water for a couple of hours until it stops hurting. Usually, I can handle pain so well that I never knew I was in labor until there was a head between my legs that belonged to a person I had never met before. I had the kids so fast that the doctor said I must have a very high tolerance for pain not to notice that I was in labor but if he saw me after I grabbed a coffee cup with a gilded rim out of the microwave, I believe that he would reconsider that opinion.

I just got back from a laundromat a little while ago. I hate those places. There's a laundry room with one washer and one dryer but it's far away and downstairs and I did every piece of laundry in this house today. If I had done it in the laundry room here, it would have taken me two days of running up and down those stairs. Instead, it took me two hours.

The woman working there was such an ass that I was forced to be a bitch and I hate that. But, a woman's got to do what a woman's got to do and I had to be a bitch. I told her that one of the dryers ate my quarter and she actually said, "You have to push Start to make it work."

I looked at her and said, "Do you think that I would have walked all the way over here to tell you that the dryer was broken if I hadn't pushed the Start button?" And then, she didn't say a word.

Now, if she had ASKED me if I pushed the stupid button, I wouldn't have minded. But, she inferred that I was an idiot and I am not an idiot. And...I hate to be treated as though I'm an idiot.

So, I walked back and changed machines, while I decided what to do. I decided to go ask her when the owner would be in because "he owes me a quarter". She said, "He isn't here tonight."

Now I knew that SHE was an idiot. If there's one thing I hate more than being treated like an idiot...it's an actual idiot.

I looked at her...jaw-dropped and dumbfounded at her vacuity. Then she said, "Wait until I'm done with this person (and this is where it gets really good) because I can't do more than one thing at a time."

"Of that...I have no doubt." I said. I almost walked away but then,I turned back to her and said..."I would be quite surprised if anyone, anywhere, ever...one single time, accused you of being able to do more than one thing at a time. You are the stupidest person that I've encountered today and I spent the day with an Alzhemier's patient. How on God's Green Earth do you find your way to work?"

She finally decided to do something semi-intelligent, she reached in the register and gave me the quarter.

OH! My father gave me some money today and told me to buy myself some clothes. I realized that it was the first time that I've spent money on anything but bills or food since winter. Spending money on myself this year has meant paying for prescriptions. I bought so many things that I hadn't even thought about buying in months...like hair clips, clothes and the movie Appolo 13. When I run out of money, I'm going to be sad again so I better win the lottery and soon.

Well, my father has fallen asleep on his bed behind me so I guess that I have to wake Jean up and drag her in here. Then, I can get this place cleaned up. I'm trying to get everything straightened out so it's as good as it can be when I leave. I think that I'm going to have to come down here every so often just to make sure that it's appropriate for Jean to be here. It's going to be tough and if my father wants to do a helluva lot of work, it can be done for a while.

But, I don't think that he has a clue what he's getting himself in for. It's one thing to do this for a living, it's quite another to do it 24/7.

Oh well. Now I have to go get Jean, wake her up and put her jammies on so that I can clean the living room. This ought to be fun. I heard my father trying to get her in here before he came in here and fell asleep. I know that she doesn't want to get off the chair.

I'm half considering carrying her in here, it'd be easier than arguing with her. Anyway...if I'm ever going to be able to go home, I have to get this place cleaned up so I'm gonna go now.

See ya!



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