Auntie B's Wax

Today. It started last night, actually. My sleep was interrupted with hot flashes and adrenaline surges at least once every hour. But I went to the day job like a real hero in spite of the fact that I had about three hours of sleep.

Then, at the day job there was absolutely nothing to do. Okay, that’s not entirely true, but being the efficiency warrior that I am all the work I had to do was done within three hours. That left six hours to stay awake, occupy myself, look busy and stay awake. It was the challenge of the century. On top of that I have this thumb thing going on, which makes gripping, including a computer mouse, nearly impossible. But guess what? I did it. I finished out the day. When 3:30 rolled around I was ready to scream out of the office and back home again for hours upon hours of sweet sleep.

Except The Pod (my car, which looks like a space pod) had less than half a tank of gas, and being the responsible motorhead that I am I decided I could spare ten minutes at the gas station to fill up.

So there I was, responsibly filling up my gas tank, kind of dozing as I did it, knowing the click of the “full tank” would alert me to hang up the nozzle and walk into the station to pay my bill, which I really had no energy to do. Except guess what? The click didn’t happen and gas came spilling out of my tank, down the side of my car and onto my pants and  shoes.

What the fffff…? Well, trying to look on the bright side I was happy I wasn’t wearing my favorite black suede oxfords; instead I was wearing my tennis shoes, which have a meshy top and allowed the gasoline to soak all the way through to my socks…and feet.

I got into The Pod and knew the gas on my shoes and pants would immediately stink up the car, and it did. When I got home I stripped off my shoes, socks, and pants and treated them as necessary. The shoes are still soaking in a bucket of soapy water, and I washed the pants and socks, twice, but I still smelled the gasoline on them. So they’re on a hanger outside, as I hope a fresh breeze will take out the stench. However, it’s raining, so the pants and socks won’t dry.

While I was in the midst of my two cycles of clothes washing I decided to make myself useful (as I didn’t do much of that at the day job) and cleaned out one of my kitchen cabinets. I felt greatly accomplished.

Now I sit in my little art deco chair in the rumpus room with a tray full of candles burning on the hearth.  My little laptop (which is essentially you guys) is keeping me company. I look out the window and see green, for the first time in months, although it’s a very wet green, and there, on a plant hanger, are my pants and socks getting drenched. Hopefully the smell of gas will leave them by tomorrow at this time.

It’s a day I’m glad to see end. I’m going to take a hot bath and crawl into my cozy bed and read some Jane Eyre, a book I’m reading for the first time and am loving. Tomorrow is another day, and hopefully I’ll finish it up a little less stinky than I did today.