How Did I Get Here, And Where Is The Next Turn?

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Brought up Feb 5, 2013

A Nice, Quiet Evening

I have so looked forward to this evening. I have started reading The Wind Through the Keyhole, Mr King's after thought to his Dark Tower series. The boy at work, the girl off into heaven knows what, I was enjoying the peace. I started a nice, long, hot shower with out a care in the world. I normally shower mornings. It's a luxury to shower in the evening with no one after me complaining of no hot water. I shampooed, slathered on conditioner to soak, and lathered up with the most wonderful scented body wash ever. It has black orchid and jasmine oils, and the scent lingers on the skin for hours after. I love it. My binder was in the wash, and I was enjoying the freedom from it, pain free. Not even the slightest twinge. As I rinsed my hair, it hit: one of the worst pains I've had in days. I noticed this morning I am clinching my teeth again and I clinched them hard as I straightened from leaning my head back. It subsided. I finished rinsing off, and lost my balance for a sec. I caught myself, swearing because if I fell, I was screwed here alone. Getting out of the shower, I slipped, catching myself again in time, and swearing more. I toweled off, putting on my flip flops, rattiest sweat pants, and a shirt I haven't been able to wear in maybe 10 years, marveling that, old, shrunken and stained, it fit. I had planned to do my toes, but the polish is still good.

I went to put the binder into the dryer with my favorite ratty lounger/gown, since the danged dryer otherwise takes two cycles to dry a full load. I need the stupid binder as soon as it's dry. Anyway, I grabbed the load of dry clothes no one had bothered to bring to me when I asked and headed for the living room. Enjoying the quiet, grinning that the old shirt is a little loose, I didn't see the damned cup of tea the girl left sitting when she came home to change after work. My big rear hit it as I shifted the basket. Tea everywhere, including in my flip flop. Putting down the basket, more swearing, I grabbed two towels from it and tossed them over the running puddle. I got it cleaned up before it ran under the couch. So much for feeling all comfy to settle back into my book. I hear the dryer banging the clothes round and round. I wish it would hurry up. As I sat down to write, the girl came in to get clothes for tomorrow as she is spending the night at her friend's house. I told her if she ever leaves a cup sitting like that again, even for 5 minutes, I will dump it on her head. I mean it!

Now, once the clothes are folded and put away, I can settle in with Suzanne, Eddie, Oy the Billy Bumbler, and darling, charming Roland. (If you've read the Dark Tower, read sarcasm there) I guess the evening isn't ruined after all.


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