Help Wanted
Went to the gym yesterday for the first time since the pandem-onium and am writing today’s blog horizontally and also my new haircut
I was looking for THE leggings. I have so many leggings mostly too small if I sewed them all together there’d be a couple of pretty sporty looking centipedes around here but there’s ONE pair that are a great fit. Couldn’t find the fuckers tho and already had undergone an epic kerfuffle about the shoes so I wore a pair that fit the same and decided I’d survive without pockets but was certainly scowly about it.
The gym has changed. I am the oldest one now and the children oh my they’re buff
The rowing machine didn’t bother me like it used to you know the rocking on the tailbone where the seam is used to leave a sore stripe, but I figured due to the dumplings et al, I was unaflicted.
So this morning got up in the dark and grabbed same pair of leggings I’d left hanging on a dresser knob because the floor is no place for an adult to leave their clothing and besides Daisy is a scavenger and here comes an entirely new story hope I get back to the other one…
You know those chocolates called OMGs? Well yesterday after the gym I went to Bulk Barn to get ingredients for cornbread (fuck sakes I got cornflour instead of cornmeal so had rice instead) and the lineup in the place this time of year is full of ladies with flour hand prints all the way down to their little knees in line ahead of me with like three candied cherries in one bag and four pecans in another and what are these? salted or not salted? like who gives a fuck and the cashier guy, must be all lonely up there by himself, but he clearly does not have the correct prescription because he has to lift his glasses every fucking time to peer at the list like fucking War and Peace to find the fucking alum powder (or is it granules?) so like three fucking times I dropped the cornflour which at least made a satisfying plunk when it hit the ground – take a breath – I never think I need a cart but due to the duration of the line I ended up with about a million little bags by the time I got up there, you know, they put all the good shit right there just like at Winners, the fuckers, so you get home with weird dishcloths and socks and a phone case and more tea and fucking lavender flavoured popcorn.
Sorry I’m so full of digressions today bet you wish it was discretion instead
So I ended up buying those OMGs, just maybe two normal sized chocolate bars’ worth and when I got home all huffy and puffy from the walk and pulled stuff out of my backpack onto the counter (did I mention my car is broken like in a serious new-engine-required way and I am trying to get it fixed for free although the warranty has expired I mean who the fuck knew I had a latent Karen inside) but back to the OMGs.
I left them in my out-of-sight-and-mind backpack and now I know why they’re called OMGs
I went back to my pretend office and started pretend working. Heard strange noises but ignored and then finally went to investigate and she’d already eaten all the chocolate and was just scarfing down the clear plastic bag so Oh My God! I said over and over as she was gulping the plastic bag Oh My God! Isn’t chocolate supposed to kill dogs?
But then Anna said don’t worry she’s a beagle although she’s only part and I said well that true she did eat a swan once so we just let her be and she’s here now farting so at least the plastic seal is imperfect.
The audio, btw, is similar to the cornflour plunk
Anyway this was supposed to be about the leggings. I put them on in the dark as I said and went to the kitchen to make coffee and discovered there were fucking pockets all along how did I miss them.
Had the fuckers on inside out that’s how which is also why my tailbone is okay because the wretched seam was on the outside so may to it again today
All of this and more is why the Help Wanted. Please apply.
If you read my last blog about my hit single Santa’s Retching, here’s a link to the video, it’s cluttered with other shit I don’t know how to get rid of but worth it.
