Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Home is where your hair dryer is

Rick is annoyed. More randomness and stupidness has come into the office via a letterhead envelope.
"Why is he doing this? To harass her?"
I almost cannot believe my ears.
"If I could answer a question like 'why is this man acting the way he is?' do you honestly think I'd be standing here having this conversation? I'd be on my yacht in the French Riviera."

Rick is annoyed. I am sarcastic.

When I am King, I am going to require everyone submit written explanations for their behavior so when questions like this arise, I can pull the explanation out of its little file folder and say "Well, he's doing this because he's had a bad week at work and fucking with you is the only way to make him feel like a big man in control of his life." Thanks for calling.

It will also be helpful when people claim they are not doing something stupid, or when they are annoyed at your reaction to said behavior. And there will be ice cream and martinis. Life will be good when I am King. Less bullshit, more vodka.

Currently, the only domain I am master of is my apartment. And that dominance is tenuous. My main smoke detector is on my coffee table. I had Priest take it down when I was making dinner for Valentine's Day because I forgot to turn on the vent and the steam from the steaks I was searing was making the damn thing go nuts. Well, it never got put back up. Also, I have a pile of half-folded laundry and a bathroom that needs cleaning before Fitz gets here tonight. This is not what I planned when I got sprung from work early. It's also hotter than hell in here. The big box fan wasn't cutting it, so, I had to turn on the A/C. This is where things get a little tricky.

I can't reach the A/C. I just stand there, on tip-toe reaching out and falling over and wimpering because I can't reach. I had to pull a chair over and stand on it to reach.

This is the modern empowered woman. Climbing on furniture like a five year old because I'm too weensy to reach my own appliances (parenthetically, that's why I haven't put the smoke detector back). The sad truth is, Priest's predecessor, Mute Button always turned it on for me when we started living here two years ago and he and I broke up that December. Well, I started dating Priest shortly thereafter, and by the time summer rolled around, he got to assume air conditioning duties. I don't know that I've ever turned the damn thing on. Until today, when I stood on my little suede covered dining room chair and tried not to fall onto my t.v. as I turned the little knob. How inconvenient. I mean, really, Priest picked a very inconsiderate time to abandon ship. In the future, I will require cold-weather break-ups so I can break in successors in time for summer. Another thing on the list for when I'm King. A tall male slave will be required to turn on the A/C.

It's good to be King.