Things are picking up what with my area being in yellow (up? down? from red). I still am hibernating — it’s my natural state. Life’s sense of humor continues, unabated. Let’s catch up on My Corona.
Did you know that the best laid plans go wherever socks disappear to? Although I read on the Internets lately that socks mostly get lost somewhere in the washer’s inside doohickeys and often end up out the water pipe, hence they should always be in a zipped sock bag. So let’s go with the best laid plans end up wherever all my pens and ponytail holders do, some nether region I couldn’t find on a map if I tried, a magical place propelled by a similarly magical force of pilfering, i.e., stealing said items never to be seen again.
WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?
I’m glad you asked.
I’ve just finished my taxes and am getting ready to send in my check (electronic payment incurs a fee — no, government, I won’t pay you to send you my money). Came across this gem on the voucher instructions:
IRS Payment Voucher: No checks of $100 million or more accepted. The IRS can’t accept a single check (including a cashier’s check) for amounts of $100,000,000 ($100 million) or more. If you are sending $100 million or more by check, you will need to spread the payments over two or more checks, with each check made out for an amount less than $100 million.
*sigh* Great. What a freakin’ inconvenience, eh?
If I controlled the world, there would be more of this door. EVERYWHERE. In an extroverted (loud) world, one (introvert) needs as much quiet as one can get. Continue reading →
Chores I dread: getting the oil changed in the car (endless waiting); vacuuming out the car (I seem to have car issues); and hanging a new shower curtain. For that last one, I put it off for weeks, until I can’t take the mildew that refuses to be Scrubbing Bubbles-ed off the plastic liner anymore. You know after a time, it just neeeeeeeds to be changed, no matter how much you clean and scrub. It just need to be gone. Every few years, I decide to reward myself for doing this awful chore by also hanging a new shower curtain with the new liner. Somehow, the pretty new curtain doesn’t make up for the torture of getting them in place, though.
The torture: a good 15 minutes with my arms up over my head trying to get the rings to clasp back together: shoulder pain that I haven’t known since the last time I did this chore, which demands I hold my arms in an unnatural position up and over my head for an unnatural amount of time. Sure, I’ve put my arms over my head for, let’s say, jumping jacks, raising my hand in a class, or when I conform and let peer pressure force me to do the letters in Y-M-C-A. But to hold your arms up seemingly forever while the ends of the clasp that worked just fine on the last curtain for months all of a sudden forget how to do their jobs — A-G-O-N-Y. (I don’t have the strength to form those letters with my arms, though.)
Of course, I don’t help myself by always — ALWAYS — misplacing a ring. No, I don’t take the rings off the curtain rod and yes, that means I, too, wonder how I can misplace something that’s hanging right in front of me, but seemingly invisible, at least for a second. Then there’s the lining up of the holes wrong, ending up with an extra empty grommet on the liner and an extra stitched hole on the curtain. And they are NEVER the same hole or anywhere near each other, meaning every — EVERY — ring has to be undone and realigned and… for the love of all things holy, do my shoulders burn right now!
Oh, did I mention I just did this? Trying to take my mind off the pain by delving into my writing, my happy place here. I know! I’ll go take a shower. Good thing that lining’s up and ready to go….