The Write Woman Couldn't Hit the Ground if she Died Today! (18 Days Left!)

With a pressing schedule of final projects, I get to add in the esteemed position of a single mom, and looking for satisfactory employment. All said, I do what it takes to save time in my other daily tasks. My new method should have a meal from mind to mouth in less than 1/2 an hour!

For lunch, I decided to make our customary Friday night pizza as a time saver. I lined the mixing bowl for the dough with foil for easy cleanup. Poured the pineapple into a baggie so I could easily drain the juice, and got all the other ingredients lined up across the table.

When the dough was mixed, I removed the foil from the bowl, knocking the glass dish off the table. The dough peeled away from the oil-lined foil with ease, but the cleanup of a broken bowl, added on a bit of time. The sauce went on smoothly, as did the ham, but not so lucky with the pineapple.

I decided to drain the juice by drinking it from the baggie like a Bo-ta bag, leaving the fruit easily transferable to the pizza. Somehow the opening closed up when I tilted it to drain the sweet juice into my mouth. I tilted it higher. In a gush, all the juice came flooding out of the sack down my face, in my hair, all over my clothes, and all over the floor.

I cleaned up the floor with Clorox spray to remove the stickiness, and realized I was behind my half an hour schedule. I quickly moved to throw the paper towels away when my hand got caught in the lid of the garbage like a giant Cookie Monster recovering from a diet. The cheese needed to be sprinkled on still, and I was falling way behind! I almost forgot to wash my hands.

The soap pump at the side of the sink wasn't working. I picked it up by the nozzle to bring it closer, and the damn thing came off. The bottle missed me on its way to the floor, but spilled a beautiful blue gloss across the tiles. Perfect!

With clean hands, I put the pizza in the oven for 15 minutes and raced to the restroom for a quick shower.

I was dressing when the timer went off in the kitchen. The house was filled with smoke and my daughter, playing video games says, “Wow, what are you making? I don’t want any!”

Instead of setting the temperature for 375* I set it for 450*. What came out was not a pizza. Instead I wound up with an extra-crispy hubcap, without its three siblings. I tiptoed over the blue ocean coating the floor to throw the pizza away outside, and came back in to clean up the blue detergent.

It’s been an hour and I’m building up the courage to put this behind me. Wish me luck on my studies… screw the food!

* Update -- Apple is sending me a box to ship my computer back for repairs. It should take 3 - 5 days to get it back. OMG! Guess it's better to scrunch the work in than having to retake the classes and set my graduation back, huh? "Calgon, take me away, damn it!"

The Write Woman Admits Sometimes it's Hard to be a Lady (32 Treacherous Days to Go)

Always be Prepared

Nothing ever exciting happens when you expect it to, but when you let your guard down, it's your own fault when things get out of control. Always be prepared for anything is my advice.

I took my computer in to get it fixed, and received a call yesterday that it was ready for pickup. I held my nine-year-old’s hand as we entered the store. The guy at Expercom pulled the computer out when I gave my name. With a smile I asked, “Did you figure it out?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it,” he said only cracking his face to speak. There were no other signs of emotion or greeting.

"You didn't fix it?" I was confused because when the girl previously accepted it, she appeared as if she had an idea as to what was wrong.

"There was nothing to fix." He printed a paper requesting my signature, but I’m not sure why. I didn’t even look at it.

I explained again that it randomly shuts down, displaying a paragraph of Chinese words when it reboots, shuts off again after, and then repopulates without sound. I must go through the reboot process again to gain full access, which doesn't mean the computer is fine. Every other time they've fixed it without a problem.

He looks at his screen. "You've never brought it here before."

"This is the only place I've brought it, and like the eighth time you guys have had it."

"No," he said, "Maybe you took it to another store."

"Okay, so what about this time? Is what I explained to you considered normal?" I asked, relieved he at least returned the computer to me.

"What was the date you supposedly brought it in last time?"

"I don't know. It was like a month or so ago. I don't remember the exact date."

He clicks a few keys on the keyboard.

"Can we just get back to this time?" I asked. The tension was quickly rising in the room. My daughter grabbed my hand. She'd seen me angry, but attempted to keep me calm.

 

The guy stepped back from the keyboard with his hands up in front in him. "Look, I'm trying to help you," he said, "If you're unwilling to answer a few questions, I won't be able to assist you properly. Now, will you please cooperate?"

"Cooperate with what?" I said. "I just want you to fix it. I've got school finals due and the work is on my system."

"You know what?" he said, his voice shaking and he became a taller version of Cujo. "I'm just going to distance myself for a minute, and I'll be back after I calm down."

Hurrying through the swinging door behind him, an outburst of profanities littered through the air. Crashing sounds echoed from the back.

“Who’s he talking to?” my daughter asked, her eyes wide open as she tugs on my hand.

“He’s letting us know it’s time to go,” I told her. I gave her hand a squeeze and a smile, trying to reassure her she was safe as we dashed for the door.

We hurried out to the car. I put her inside. My eyes coasted over the glove box as I closed her door and then they shifted to the store. I could see the asshole behind the counter, eyes narrow slits, and his hand popped up displaying one finger at the end of his arm.

Without being aware of what I was doing, entering a surreal world, I swung the front door of my car open, and popped the glove box. The gun, I had purchased for self-defense, practically jumped into my hand. I needed to preserve my mental wellness by ridding the world of this schmuck. One less idiot can’t hurt.

“You stay here and Mommy will be right back,” I said with a warm smile.

The door swung open with the annoying ding-ding, as if I needed an introduction. He knew I was coming, but he didn’t see my friend until I raised it in front of me, headed straight for him.

I was surprised to see him take a stand with a cocky attitude. He actually chuckled for the first time. “What? You’re going to shooo…”

BANG!

The first shot hit his throat. Blood gushed out as he instinctively clutched at it with his hands. The alarm on his face was priceless. I only wish I could have made that shot twice and seen an instant replay. What the heck, I’d give it the ol’ college try.

BANG!

Unfortunately, I missed. Oh, I didn’t miss him, just the same shot. The bullet shoved his right eye back into the depths of his head with an explosion on the wall behind him.

“You give me a headache,” I told him, as his body flew against the wall behind him, creating a work of art on the wall. Probably the only decent thing he’d accomplished all day. His body collapsed and shook on the floor in a puddle resembling thick maroon paint. “I’ll just call Apple and have them help me.” I tried to reassure him I could handle the situation myself. I was completely able, after all.

The computer guy’s lips moved open and closed like a beggar’s hand. I think he may have been trying to tell me to “Have a nice day,” but I’m not sure. I didn’t stick around to find out. So far talking to him was useless.

Okay, this didn’t really happen, at least not the last part. When the imbecile ranted about what a bitch I was, I grabbed my daughter and left. I never took the gun from my glove box, but I won’t say it didn’t cross my mind.

Okay, Stop Messing with The Write Woman..... okay, this time I mean it! (76 Days until Graduation -- still)

You want some, don't you?

Totally impractical to write two different posts on the same day, isn't it? Well that's too damned bad. I'm doing it. Since you're hear, you might as well find out why. Here it is... personal advice of making lemons into lemonade, even when you're allergic to citric acid. (Yes, it's one of my many flaws.)

Yesterday I was so proud of myself for taking my son to his doctor appointment in Salt Lake City, on time despite the traffic. My daughter and I walked to the downtown library, which is huge, and had a grand time! Saw all types of interesting people along the way, and the weather was to die for, but not literally. Everything was great, or so I thought.

When I got home, I found I hadn't received the job I had wanted so badly, but I got over it. I had an online school meeting and put a little into the conversation, but mostly listened. Meetings like that would go so much faster if people paid attention to the materials covered until waiting for the end and having them repeated. I'm sure some of them were muted with the television on, listening to music, or texting their beaus. At any rate, I had a wonderful and uneventful night, because I didn't know!

Yes, don't you hate it when things are good because you don't know? But then you find out and you're

Multitasking isn't PR friendly

twice as angry as you would have been in the first place because you had a good time and should have been upset hours ago? On the other hand, the day was good and I'd rather leave it that way.

I reserved Exodus tonight from Redbox, even though the movie only got 2.5 stars. The intention was in watching it as a wind down, in addition to possibly posting it on my blog for LinkedIn and Friday Night Reviews. After all, no time lost is time well spent, right? But when we got out of the car and looked into my purse, guess what? I have my driver's license and other cards I don't use frequently in my huge wallet in one pocket and everything else in other pockets. Now there's lots of room for more junk because some slippery Joe managed to finagle them out of my purse yesterday. The bad news is my bank card was stolen and the movie I reserved couldn't be had. The good news? There's less than $3 in my account and I still have my keys, my driver's license, and my really important things.

I've learned a very valuable lesson from this. First, always zip your purse closed if you're not using it, but more importantly, keep your documents separated from each other. This is why men don't have purses. They become confused with all the stuff in ours, but when they lose their wallets, they  lose money and their condoms.

You know what I wish I could have stolen? A few bills! Wouldn't that be something, especially if they paid them for you too? Or what if someone stole your McDonald's bag when you weren't looking and then got salmonella poisoning? That would be awesome! Well, whoever it is, I hope they took advantage of all the great deals they got because I just cancelled my Executive Costco card.

Good luck with that!