Thursday, July 1, 2010

The Bees Knees

Alternate Title of This Post: An Update on the World's Most Elderly Couple In their Thirties

Technically, I'm not 30 yet. I have a couple more weeks. I haven't really thought about it much lately (although I have said in the past that I'm just going to "keep turning 29" until I'm dead).

I woke up to no electric this morning. You have to understand that I lived for many years in a city, a LARGE city, that had the worst electric company in the country. We would lose electric for days and days. One winter while I was away at college, I called to check in on my Grams (who I later moved in with), and she casually informed me halfway through our conversation that she had been without electric for five days. She lived in the country. You couldn't even use the water in the house because of the well running on electricity. It was 15 degrees outside. She was just sitting in her house wearing 8 sweaters and looking at the birds out the window. This ended up happening to us countless times throughout the years.

So, whenever I lose electric, I lose my mind. Even if it only flashes off and then comes right back on, for that 2 seconds, I think we're going to be out for days. I refuse to use the water (even though my husband has called the water company in front of me and both he and the customer service guy tried to patiently explain to me that we could in fact use the water here). I just know we're going to lose everything in the fridge and freezer and NOTHING pisses me off more than having to throw away food.

Of course I went grocery shopping yesterday. That is always the case. I once came home from the grocery store to no electric. I couldn't even open the (electric) garage door. All that milk, cheese, and meat that never even made it to the inside of the fridge. Sigh.

Today, I attempted to find the electric company's number in our files. It was dark and I had no luck. I am sorry Every-Electric-Company-I-Will-Ever-Come-Into-Contact-With but I will call you and let you know that I am without electric. I will do so over and over and over. And over. I called my husband AT WORK (something I don't do) and asked him to call for me. Even though I know I'm in a city with a responsible electric company. Even though I can see all the neighbors are also out (that's the first rule of no electricity - run outside and check on the neighbors).

My good husband did so, and an hour later, I had electricity and the thermometers in the fridge and freezer were fine. It was just that one hour where all I could do was angrily list all of the contents in my fridge and freezer to my bored albeit attentive Weimaraner.

I felt like an angry little old lady. I wanted to wear a nightgown and stand on the front step and wave a rolling pin at someone.

I decided to try to get back to cleaning up the house before the holiday weekend. While scrubbing the kitchen floor in a weird crab-like stance, I found myself suddenly wobbly and deterred. What? I am only 1/8 into this task. I have most of the floor left to go! I can't believe it. I thought "I'm not going to make it. I'm actually not going to be able to wash the floor like this."

I had to stop and reposition myself - granted my weird body positioning hadn't been ideal in the first place, but that had never stopped me before. Not good. What's happening to me? I do not need to start losing it now - not when I still am very mentally alert and obsessed with keeping things clean. Not one single cat hair is to be on that floor. We used to be normal and have one cat. With so many additions along the way due to our need to rescue everything, that rule has never changed. If my knees are going to crap out of me, I'm going to need some of my OCD to do so as well.

My husband has also been battling some knee pain the past couple weeks. He has a doctor's appointment next week. How many good knees should a reasonably healthy young couple have between them? At this rate, can the answer please be one?

If we grab some lunch after his doctor's appointment, will that count as a date? At our age, how could it not? Twenty-nine going on thirty is starting to feel more sixty-ish.

Bonus old lady trick of the day: giant carpenter bee on its back, legs folded, dead as a doornail six inches in front of the front door. Stared at it a while. 100% sure it's dead.

Proceeded to stomp the hell out of it with my thick soled dog-walking shoes. Yeah.

Maybe on our next date, we need to do something youthful. I can feel the grey hairs. They're coming! I THINK I CAN FEEL THEM. They feel like a mix of secondhand smoke, a new perm, and hard candies in the bottom of my purse. We are one step away from staying in all weekend and watching The Wheel. I can hear myself now, "Vanna doesn't age at all, you know it? I bet she never has trouble getting out of a crouched position. Look at her legs. They're the same now as when she started!"

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