So, the dog steps on a bee during the mandatory walk.
Last night, the mighty dog hunter slayed a cockroach. Knowing the propensity of the wife to scream upon spying cockroaches, dead or alive, it behooves me to remove the carcas from the middle of the dining room.
A water, swirling grave is called for. But as the water recedes, taking the evil and suddenly very much alive cockroach with it, my auditory sensory receptors detect an anomoly. The toilet is not refilling. The toilet contraption, which I call “the contraption,” is stuck in the off position and must be replaced.
I leave a most un-romantic note for the wife, detailing dead bugs and broken toilets.
I also have a voicemail from General Electric who says they’re coming today to repair the oven. Since I didn’t schedule this appointment, I wonder why it now becomes my responsibility to cancel it. Attempts to do so, however, are met with further automated voices telling me to call back later.
Not as bad as last week when a machine called me and asked if I wanted to speak to the DSL phone technician, and when I pressed “1” for yes, proceeded to place me on hold and tell me in a patient but automated and uncompromising way that my wait time would be 12 minutes. But still.
I have to wait till 8 to cancel the oven repair. I have to use my lunch our to buy a toilet contraption. Pulling into the work parking garage, I nearly hit a large turtle. I put on the emergency blinkers, moved the turtle to the lake to the side. Parked the car and walked into a giant spider web manned by a maneating spider that’s probably still in my hair as we speak, who is understandably upset that his web was not strong enough to catch this morning’s meal of the humanoid biped.
That’s the first hour today. How’s your day going?
Chasing the Wind 
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