Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I have had a helluva day!! And not in a good way! I am typing this on Word Pad for the love of God, what does that tell you?? I'll tell ya what it tells you!....walk with me...
ok, so I start the day with the computer not starting. Doesn't even attempt to boot up. Not a whir, not a sound, not a flicker of light on the little doo-dads on the bottom there that tells you what's on...cuz nothin' was on!!
My laptop was eaten alive from the inside out with viruses. My poor hubby, whom I've yet to nickname, wiped it and reloaded everything. Within a week, it was not functioning again. I give him MY laptop to work on and start using HIS laptop. Within a month, his laptop is just brimming with viruses. Stop looking at me like that. I don't know where they came from, ok? So hubby is totally annoyed with me, to say the least, and he hands me back my old computer, wiped clean for the second time and goes about working on his old one. He can't figure out what is wrong and is still working on it when, a week later, I hand him mine back with a pitiful and pleading expression. My hubby deserves props: he only yelled at me for five minutes. He doesn't have the same stamina for yelling like I do. So, in all his wisdom and kindness, he hands me one of the 2 laptops he brings home from work. This thing is fast and I love it, it's quick, I zip zip zip around the internet. He speaks of buying me a whole new laptop, cuz he doesn't know what site I was on (he may not have yelling stamina, but the man holds a grudge!) he doesn't know what site I was on, but I need some heftier AV (that's anti-virus, for those of you who don't speak computer nerd....it's a very difficult language to pick up!) And things were going well!! I was writing regularly on it, I was doing internet research for my novel, I started my blog here....until this morning. When apparently I killed it. At least my hubby didn't yell at me this time. No, it was way worse than that.
He just sighed.
So now I'm downstairs on The Beast, the supercomputer on which he plays World of Warcraft (which will be referred to as WoW from now on), that hubby-stealing, brain-mushifier he calls an RPG (that's roll-playing game...are you writing these down? I'm not gonna repeat them later I will just laugh at your confusion). And this damn thing ---he has it so streamlined so it plays his game faster online, it doesn't even have Microsoft Word on it for cryin' out loud!! This is what I've been reduced to!!
Ok, back to my morning. So after my stomach drops when the computer doesn't come on (and some fierce, rapid button pushing and some cursing) I groan and shake my head and move on to making breakfast for four children. (only 2 are mine...that's a whole other blog post!) I go to put frozen waffles in the toaster oven, which I use every single day, and the little light does not come on. I'm checking all sorts of things (my hubby refers to this as "troubleshooting"....another vocab word. There might be a blog later that's just a vocab test, where's your pencil and paper?? well go get it or you'll have to read the whole damn blog over again!) and nothing works!! Get this, I have to climb on a chair to get my toaster down, my 11 year old toaster that's been used maybe twice and is only kept for emergencies such as these. I got this from my HS BFF Angie, cuz I liked my bagels for breakfast then too! And she made sure it had extra wide slots for my bagels! Thanks Ang! ;) Wait, where was I? Oh right the 11 year old toaster. So I toast waffles, get this, TWO AT A TIME!! Not 5 at a time, like I would cram them into my toaster oven. Do you know how long breakfast takes and how cranky kids are when you can only toast 2 waffles at a time?
Well, do you?!!
By snack time, I had finished feeding everyone breakfast.
We go to a large chain store that is not paying me to mention their name (but it is not the one that starts with a "W") and I hem and haw and weep a little, cuz none of them are as good as my old one, not as large inside, doesn't have the right settings. I feel like....I'm being forced to replace my best friend! (I would never do that to you Tamela, even when you couldn't toast my bread anymore....ahem). So I pick this flashy stainless steel one with black accents that can hold a 12" pizza and has a convection oven option. I get my kids Bolt and some educational workbooks (hey, they LIKE doing those, ok??) and my credit card, which I just checked last night and has more than enough credit for a freaken toaster oven and some workbooks, is declined. I was only barely able to refrain from slamming my head into the counter. And when the.....cashier (it was really hard to be polite there) said loudly, "it's been declined!" I also, proudly and with superhuman effort, refrained from punching her squarely in the nose. I could not however, stop the hot blush from creeping up my cheeks. I covered my anger and embarrasment by muttering and fumbling in my purse for my checkcard. I paid and about ran out of there.
I will not go into how I flipped out on the kids in the parking lot because my one lovely adorable child, Optimas Prime, kept twirling out into the middle of the parking lot and my OTHER lovely adorable child, Batman, kept getting into a crouch in the seat of the cart, trying vainly to wriggle out of his restraint.
I get everyone home, car unloaded, child #4 off the bus (whom I shall refer to as Hay-Hay for reasons known only to me), get Hay-Hay off the bus and start setting up the toaster oven. We're having mini-bagels for lunch. The shiny brand-new, freshly washed toaster oven does not work as expected. As a matter of fact. It doesn't work at all. Ok, deep breath. Wipe those tears away, no time for cryin', it won't make the toaster oven work, Lara. So I find myself troubleshooting for the second time today. I'm checking Test buttons on outlets. Nope. I'm flipping switches in circuit breaker box. Nothing. I'm trying EVERY test button I can find in the kitchen/family room combo (forcing the stuck one I find) and THEN I flip every switch in the circuit breaker box related to the kitchen or other attached areas (by the by, the person who labeled our circuit breaker box apparently was a crack-smoking high school drop out who'd hit his head that morning and was barely conscious, because the labels were all scratched out, scribbled on and barely legible!!) I go back into the kitchen (pausing to shriek like a paranoid schizo off her meds at the kids, who were bickering for the 15th time in 5 minutes) and voila! The toaster oven now works.
So does the old one.
Tamela, you're gettin a new-to-you toaster oven chica! ;)