I’m a smart person. Mostly. There are times, however, when I wonder how I am able to function without harming myself or others.
I’m embarrassed to tell you how long it was before I realized that a bookmark magnet was actually a magnet like you put on the fridge and NOT a magnetic book mark that I was somehow too dumb to use and may have almost torn apart trying to figure out how to separate its non-existent parts to get it to work.
And by work, I mean somehow magnetically mark my page in the book I was reading. Which I don’t even know why that’s a thing, because I very seldom read books that have metal components.
There was the morning when I decided to soak some new sheets in a last ditch effort to get this weird smell out [a weird petro-chemical smell, probably from the plastic bag they were stored in, but COULD HAVE BEEN a secret plot to spread some sarin-type gas attack distributed through packages of 500 thread count sheets from Bed Bath and Beyond. Who knows for sure?] before I finally decided to say fuck it and return them.
Anyway, I went down to the laundry room and set the washer to soak [after having washed the sheets at least 4 times - second rinse each time. Suck it, diminishing water table.], and came back upstairs.
While eating my DELICIOUS oatmeal, I heard this weird noise, this gurgle gurgle gurgle. At first I thought it was one of the cats [she slurps licking herself], and then I realized it was COMING FROM DOWNSTAIRS.
I wondered how I would deal with whatever watery catastrophe was on hand and mustered up my courage, following the sound into the laundry room, hoping for a chainsaw wielding crazy so at least I wouldn’t have to call a plumber, when I found that:
The washer wasn’t doing anything.
But the sink?
Yeah, I had left the faucet on after washing my hands. Evidently I don’t wash my hands enough to remember how to turn off the goddamn faucet.
Finally, there was the day where people kept tweeting “May the 4th be with you!” and I thought that was cute and funny and wondered if people did that on Twitter every month on the 4th because they love Star Wars so much.
A little while later, I was listening to a radio station play Irish music and thought, “Why would the DJ play Irish music right before Cinco de Mayo? Isn’t that weird?” Like a lightning bolt, it hit me:
Cinco de Mayo.
May the 5th.
The day after…
May the 4th.
May the 4th be with you.
About the Writer
Liberal. Impatient. And profane. No. Seriously. Really, really foul-mouthed.
Find me at The Suniverse.