So I figured that all of you guys could use a little chuckle at someone else's expense. I guess that it was my turn in the barrel today.
Being out of town in Reno most of the week to see the grandkids (which was great), I was trying just to get back in the normal, boring (hermit-like) routine of life. So? Sunday is laundry day. I'm still off of work for all of next week. But.....since I'm a creature of habit....laundry it is. So I go stumbling down the stairs into the basement, and go to proceed as usual. I spin the dial on the machine to the usual setting, give it a tug and..........nothing. "What the fuk?" instantly spews out of my mouth. So I push the dial back in, thinking that obviously it just didn't know what I wanted it to do the first time. Spin it all the way back around to the proper setting again, and give it another pull. Nothing. "FUK!" now emerges from my inner being along with a slight growl. So I stand there for a moment, then spin around to go check the obvious. I stumble over to the breaker panel to check this $hit out. Hmmm.....nothing tripped. "FUK!"
I grabbed a meter off the top of the toolbox and stumble back over to the aforementioned FUKKED washing machine. I pull the plug out of the receptacle and proceed to check it to make sure that power was at the plug. Yep.....120 volts as expected. FUK! I then proceed to yank the guts out of the machine to start tracing the circuits (while the monkey in me is starting to come to the surface in frustration). Long story short at this point. 45 fuking minutes later, I'm standing there scratching my head like the aforementioned monkey staring at fire in amazement.....glance up.....and notice (and remember while noticing it) that I had shut off the water to the machine before leaving for Reno. Why? Because I'm an anal, stupid motherfucker is why. Don't even ask. So I open the valve, plug in the washer, pull the dial and the thing comes to life. Filling itself as it should and then carrying on as normal.
FUK!
But no. We're not done yet ladies.
After getting home from the airport at around 0200 yesterday, I sure as hell didn't feel like going to the grocery store. So around mid-day yesterday I got a little chinese take out. What's not to like? Eat that and figure that I'll have the rest today (on laundry day). I throw the plastic container that held the delectable, delicious General Tso's into the reactor to heat it up. The couple of minutes go by...the reactor goes beep....and I'm thinking I'm just a couple of minutes away from inhaling this stuff down the ol gullet. I go to take it out of the microwave, and the previously fairly firm plastic, of which the container was made of, goes pretty fukin limp in my hand. It does a lovely little spinning dance-like move in my hands as I attempt to regain control of it......and promptly falls to the floor FACE FUKIN DOWN! Oh....but not before some of the generals molten-like sauce (at the approximate temperature of a star going supernova) spills down my hand like napalm (because it's sticky). FFFFUUUUUUUKKKKKKK!
It just ain't easy being me sometimes.
So there you go ladies. You can now begin with the knee slapping and laughing while pointing at me.
As you were.