Clown Costume

I only own two pairs of pants right now. One was in the laundry waiting for the next wash and the other was on me. Then I took out the trash. The trash bag had some really, seriously, major league gross semi-liquid something in it that just so happened to leak onto my jeans. Gross.

I am supposed to leave to visit my mother in 90 minutes. What to do?

I took the jeans that were in the hamper and put them into the washing machine on quick-wash mode. 25 minutes and they’ll be cleaner. Clean completely? Maybe. Clean-ish? Yeah, sure. Quick wash time plus a round in the dryer means they should be finished at just about the time I need to leave.

The freshly grossed jeans will go into the washing machine on the heavy duty wash setting because ick. That needs to wait for the quickie to finish first though. So what do I do while I wait for the quickie wash/dry to finish?

When I was bagging up all of my too-big clothes to donate somewhere, Jen suggested I save one pair of jeans. That way a year from now I can put them on and see how big they look and we can all have a good laugh. That sounded like a plan.

I am wearing that pair of jeans right now. They are probably 5-6 sizes too big. I feel like a hobbo. I look like a clown. It’s pretty funny today, just think of how funny I will look in nine more months.

I’m pretty sad about the whole gross experience though so I just threw on some Rush (Signals, to be precise) to cheer me up. It’s working.

You move me
You move me
With your buildings and your eyes
Autumn woods and winter skies
You move me
You move me
Open sea and city lights
Busy streets and dizzy heights
You call me
You call me

Packing List Fail

I mentioned recently that I ripped the hell out of one of my pairs of jeans the other day and had to order some new clothes. I ordered a couple of pairs of jeans and a few shirts. I got a delivery message that same day with a delivery date of today. Nice.

Today I noticed that a second pair of jeans is also ripped to shit. At this point in the story please note that I rarely buy clothes and the two ripped jeans are probably 3-4 years old. I think it’s been that long since I resupplied.

Well that sucks, but at least the post office will be delivering two new pairs of pants today, right? Good timing, I guess.

That’s what I thought at least. The postman brought me a package today and it was very small. Way too small for two pairs of pants and a few shirts. Small enough that it actually held one shirt. The hell?

I checked the delivery email again. Big letters: DELIVERED, then a link to one of the shirts I ordered. Then in small letters: Processing, then links to everything else. Oh you sonofabitch. I just suck at reading. Really, I am just not that good at life.

I guess I am down to one pair of jeans now. Unless of course the third pair is also ripped and I just haven’t noticed. How much do you want to bet on that?