Some Days You're the Garage Floor, Some Days You're the Alfredo Sauce

Friday was not a good day for Val.

Actually, Val had a bonus extra-long day of 27.5 hours, because the not-goodness started Thursday night at 8:12, when Even Steven decided to derail the best-laid plans of Val. It was the second night of the Big Brother season. Part II of the two-part premiere. The Pony and I used to watch together, and this show makes me miss him all the more. I'd sent him a text Wednesday, reminding him of Part I of the premiere, and he said he was planning to watch it with a friend, and order in pizza. I was DVRing it myself, to watch around 11:00.

Anyhoo...Thursday evening, I sent The Pony another text, that I could watch in real time, if he wanted us to text comments during commercials. He was down for that. So I went to my OPC (Old People Chair) at 8:00, to begin watching my program. Of course I'd set my DVR in a manner not conducive to live watching. It's not like I have The Hopper. I can only record two shows at once. I'd chosen Bringing Up Bates, on the UP channel, and Big Brother. Sometimes I like to rewind to confirm something I miss. BUT the Bates show was recording on the channel I had to watch live. So I waited until first commercial, and canceled both recordings, setting them up on opposite recording DVR thingies.

I'd just started watching Big Brother live when OUR DISH WENT DOWN. That's due to weather. Severe thunderstorms. We were in the red area on the weather map, I saw from watching the recording of the first 12 minutes of my show, on the tiny radar map inset at the bottom of the screen. Of course that put the kibosh on bonding with The Pony. He DID try to fill me in on key points.

At 9:05, I regained DISH service. Great! Now I could watch the second half with The Pony. But no. Because Thursday's show was only an HOUR, not two hours, like Part I on Wednesday. But never fear! The Pony texted me: "Wanna hear nominations?"

"Yes!"

Six minutes later, I still had no response. "Oh. Was that just a question, and you don't plan to tell me?" After 30 more minutes, I finally got more info.

"Sorry. I started working on a presentation. It was Sam and Steve. The robot girl and the cop."

The next morning, I was up bright and early, to drive the boys' weekly letters to the main post office, and make a mobile deposit for The Pony's monthly allowance. Except the app for making a mobile deposit didn't work. That's another story in itself.

I set to getting ready for town. While filling up my purple mini bubba cup with ice water to take along, I knocked it off the cutting block. After filling, of course. Do you know how many crescent-shaped ice cubes from FRIG II that my mini bubba cup holds? That's 17. I know, because I counted each one as I roamed the kitchen, picking them up off the floor.

Before getting in T-Hoe, I had to fetch the big green trash dumpster from the end of the driveway. The day wasn't going to get any cooler than the current 86 degrees. I might have blacked out momentarily on the way back. There were a couple of minutes I couldn't account for.

I was nearly to the low-water bridge when the Poop Truck came barreling down the other side and forced me to put T-Hoe's right-side tires dangerously close to the 2-foot drop-off at the edge of the blacktop. The Poop Truck stops for no one! It's like a septic tank cleaner truck, with a tank full of poop. Hick told me about it. It makes 3 or 4 runs a day, to a field up off a side road, and dumps poop from the prison. That's what Hick says. Of course I have no way to verify it, although I DO see the Poop Truck and where it goes. I can't believe that's legal, or that the prison doesn't have a better sort of waste disposal system.

Stopping at Orb K to get scratchers to put in Genius's letter...I returned to T-Hoe to see black ANTS crawling all over the envelopes in my purse! I guess they had gotten on there when I set my purse (and purple mini bubba cup!) on the counter next to the roaster pan of cat kibble on the side porch while fetching the dumpster.

The trip to the post office went without a hitch. Afterwards, I stopped for some gas, but the nozzle thingy wouldn't let me clip the lever, so I had to squeeze it the whole time. I bought myself two scratchers, but they were losers. My current tally is 2 winners out of 18 tickets!!! Fortunes should change soon, I would hope.

I had just settled by brain for a long winter's nap settled my gullet for a peaceful midday lunch, when Hick sent me a text that HOS's daughter was bringing her little brother over to Poolio for a swim. It's not like I have to entertain them. She's out of high school, and he's seven. But you never know when there might be an emergency. So I wasn't truly OFF DUTY from worry.

That evening, as I was making terrible taters for supper, I burned my hand on one of them while turning them in the microwave. I'm pretty sure it was Hick's, of course! Boy, was I steamed! Heh, heh. That's a little baked-potato injury humor for you. Then taking them out, I dropped one from the over-stove microwave onto the stove. The end kind of split open. It was Hick's potato. I made sure! He ate it anyway, though.

And the cherry on top of this treat of a day was that when I was shutting down New Delly at 11:24 p.m., a message popped up. "Your team viewer session has timed out and will close now."

WTF?

Apparently, I have a whole TEAM of spies keeping track of me!