2007-02-05 @ 12:37 p.m.
I'm trying to turn over a new leaf....honest. But when I'm walking up to the recycling machines at the grocery store at the same time as a young girl with six bags of soda bottles and I only have one and she steps directly in front of me, and start shoving bottles into the machine rather gleefully, like hahaha I really pulled one over on that middle aged hippie chick with the single bag, I was not thinking happy, peaceful thoughts. To be truthful, I was actually standing there like Mt. Fuji waiting to blow. Ya happy little girl? Ya having fun? How many bottles did she make me wait for? 91.
And it was freezing ass cold too, since the recycling center was right next to the front doors, which kept opening and closing. And we're right in the midst of a deep freeze right now with highs of only about 5 degrees with wind chills down around 25 degrees below zero. So not only did I have to wait for "Jennifer" to put 91 freakin' bottles into the freaking' machine, I also had to stand there for almost 10 minutes getting blasted with winds from like the North Pole every time the door opened.
About my only consolation was the vague amusement I felt as I watched some guy put a bunch of beer bottles into the machine next to her. He was wearing Bermuda Shorts and a tee-shirt. I had seen him getting out of an SUV out in front of the store in these bitterly cold 40 mph winds and whiteout conditions wearing only a tee-shirt, shorts and sneakers. D'oh! So there I was standing glaring at "Jennifer", but occasionally glancing over at Mr. Bermuda Shorts, because everytime he bent over to grab beer bottles out of his bag, I'd get a spectacular view of Boy Wonder's Butt-Crack extravaganza. Whee! It wasn't altogether horrible since he was just a young guy of about 20 and not some fat old gross plumber dude or something. And, well, since I'm elderly, I'll take any butt crack action I can get.
So I finally got to the recycling machine and put in my four, yeah, four bottles in and got my 20 measley cents. Man, that was so worth it. I then went in the store and bought a bag of M&Ms and they only cost 24 cents with my money from the recycling! Woot!
I then went next store to Target to get some cat litter since the house was starting to smell like the SPCA PLUS a crazy cat lady's house. You know what I've noticed? They always put the heaviest things way in the back of the store. Am I right? Big 50 pound bags of rock salt....the furthest corner in the store. A pack of gum? Right at the register. Same thing with cat litter. 14 lbs. 20 lbs. 50 lbs. of cat litter...they're all at the very back of the store and you have to hoist the damn thing and then walk 23 miles back to the front registers.
So I thought I'd mention this in a friendly, cheerful way to the cashier (The "Did you ever notice how the heaviest things are way in the back of the store..." thing), since I'm really trying to be less shy and talk to people. So I cheerfully dumped the 14 pound bag of litter on the conveyor belt. At first she didn't hear me or maybe she chose not to or my third usual favorite answer: my cloak of invisability was working particularly well that day. So I made my incredibly insightful observation once again and she just looked at me as if I were a total idiot and glumly said, "You could have used a shopping cart, m'aam."
And then I inexplicably said: "Touche, my dear woman, touche."
Why did I suddenly just sound like David Niven in a British comedy? Argh. Probably because she was right.
On a slightly happier note, the Furnace from Hell situation appears to have been resolved. After nearly two weeks of having the temperature hover at around 85 degrees in my apartment and my skin drying out and my face being bright red and waking up awash in sweat and having to sleep nearly naked, the temperature is now down to a more reasonable 75 degrees. I'm guessing someone finally complained about Garden Hacker's innane decision to turn it up to the temperature of the sun and the nitwit landlord realized that if the temperature was 85 instead of 75, and there were 45 apartments, his energy bill would probably be approaching something like $99 hazillion dollars (we don't pay the heat here - THANK GOD!), so he had him turn it down. So I'm very happy about that. Its a little chilly, but that is what robes, blankets, kitties and foofies are for, right?
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty