Note: Sensitive individuals may wish to not click on the link in the bottom paragraph. Just warning y’all.
You remember my DVD player, don’t you? Of course you do. It’s pretty much my only friend. Well, this time it swallowed a Family Ties DVD (NOES!!! I MUST HAVE YOUR ’80’S GOODNESS!!!!!!!!!!!), and then promptly died. And wouldn’t come back. Even after I painstakingly disconnected everything and unscrewed all 16,000 screws and then screwed them all back and ended up with two left over.
So I went and bought another one. Again. I’m giving up soon and switching to Blu-Ray.
But the most amusing thing was this morning when I was bemoaning the fact that I was going to have to do all that unscrewing and my dad looks up, all concerned, and says, “You know you should unplug it, right?”
Um. Yeah. I know I’m a history major and all, but I didn’t realize my family thinks I’m stupid enough to stick a metal rod into an appliance coursing with electricity.
OMG, y’alls, had so much to do today. Three tests to study for, two essays to write, an entire house that was filthy, apparently no towels (I got this from the screams of anguish coming from the bathroom this morning, and the unkind replies when I helpfully suggested that maybe if someone other than me knew how to wash the towels, we wouldn’t be out all the time), and I wanted to clean out the basement because I’ve been told I cannot even think about moving any furniture until everything I own is completely not touching any communal areas such as the basement or attics.
But I got it all finished, and only checked Facebook six times while writing the essays, and OH MY GOD DO YOU KNOW HOW DIFFICULT THIS WHOLE GRADUATE SCHOOL THING IS GOING TO BE FOR ME!?!?!?! And I even finished hauling my shit out of the basement.
Major issue re: the whole moving downstairs thing, though. The room? Has no ceiling fan. The room? Is on the first floor. The windows? If left open could allow in rapists and murderers and all sorts of other dangerous types that totally live in Grafton. Morena? Is not pleased.
So now I need to figure out how much a ceiling fan and an electrician to install said ceiling fan (Daddy: You sure I can’t do it? Mom and I: NO!), because I have to pay for it and I’m really, really broke.
But I can’t decide if I like the idea of not having any moving air all summer long and possibly breaking a sweat or being hacked to teensy pieces and served on toast point (What? This is Wisconsin. We do weird shit here.) less.
I’m thinking the Gein route would take hours, maybe. All summer with my bionic sweat? Not fun.