Order UP!!

Last night 7 PM: F arrives home after going grocery shopping by himself. He sets the bag on the counter and goes about his business.

10 PM: I follow him to bed.

8AM THIS MORNING: F calls me from work: "Hey, did you put away that meat I bought last night?"

Me: "I didn't know you bought any meat."

F: "So, that means it is still sitting out on the counter?"

Me: "Uh, yeah, if you didn't put it away."

F: "Can you turn around and go back to the house to put it away?"

Me: "After it sat out OVER NIGHT????!!!!"

F: "Yeah, it'll be fine."

Me: "Are you sure??? I don't think it will still be good."

F: "Yes, please, go put it away."

Me: "ok."

Needless to say, I won't be having a deli sandwich any time soon for lunch. uh, gag. That is just asking to get sick. Not that it was overtly warm or hot in our house, but the temp didn't drop below 72 all night. I'm making myself sick visualizing all the germs and slimy things on that meat now.

*shiver*

We've got Fievel

We have a mouse situation in our office currently. Over the last few weeks there have been several sightings. There have, in fact, been a few captures. Three to be exact. One of the women in another office group was apparently VERY concerned about the well being of said mice once they were captives. Being a fair and humane person, the Building Manager gave them “live traps” to place about their office space. Once the traps were set, the concerned woman saw to it that there was not only food placed inside the trap, but ALSO WATER, just in case they didn’t reach the trapped mouse quickly. Yes, that’s right; the trap was stocked with food and water. GITMO has nothing on us. It is believed that it is a Mouse (mice?) Family and that the 3 that were captured and released “back into the wild” were the older, or shall I say, Elder Mice. Apparently, one mouse was not so lucky, as he/she was found dead. The remaining mouse, we assume there is only one left, has been creating quite a stir today. Darting across cubicle floors, slipping under cubicle walls, creating all out panic amongst the open-toed shod. The mouse’s activities have resulted in two excited shouts (from those who saw it) and one cubicle entry way blockade by the neighbor of the witness. This isn't the first time we've had mice issues. Several years back, all our snacks were getting nibbled. That offender's life was inadvertently cut short by an almost empty pot of hot coffee that was emptied into the sink said offender was hanging out in. Our office has been a bit of a wild kingdom over the years. During its first few days in our ownership; we harbored two very smelly wet dogs from a thunderstorm. This seemed to set the trend with our outdoor brethren, that we were kind and gentle folk. The dogs became cats that lived out by the trash bin. The cats became bats that slept in office trash cans. The bats turned into birds that got caught between the walls while trying to spy on the snake that lived there as well. Do you have any idea how nerve wracking it can be to hear a bird flapping frantically behind the wall? NEVER MORE comes to mind.


We also seem to be the Mecca for bees and hornets and wasps. I was actually stung by one (one what, we’re not sure) that landed on my neck while I was talking to a friend out in the atrium. Our patio picnic tables draw bees, hornets, and wasps as though we coat them in honey and pollen. Were we chased from both tables today by the hovering bees that were unable to return home because my tush was blocking their entry.

After the events of the day, the Building Manager swore us to secrecy when she told us she’d be going out and purchasing “REAL TRAPS” to do away with the remaining baby mouse. There will be no supply stocking of this trap, outside of the peanut butter laden trigger.

Let the hunt begin.

Look With Your Eyes

F comes upstairs and starts looking around the family room. He looks on the table. He looks on the couch. He picks up his laptop and looks at it. He places said laptop on the couch. He looks on the floor. He looks on the table again. He looks behind the couch. He picks up the camera and puts it back down.
I watch silently.
The puzzled look on his face grows as he picks up his laptop again.
Me: "What are you looking for?"
F: "The data cord for the camera." he says as he motions towards the camera that is now back on the couch.
He picks up his laptop again and looks at it puzzled and then tosses it back on the couch.
Me: " You mean the data cord that is attached to the laptop you just had in your hand?"
F: "Wha? Oh, um, yeah."
Me: "Emhmmm."

Seriously guys, LOOK WITH YOUR EYES.

When Your Stomach Drops to Your Shoes

The Tenant called. I waited for F to start swearing. It rarely feels that any time Tenant calls, it is something good. This time was no different, however, F didn't swear.
 The night before a lovely high heat, high humidity day, the A/C goes out.
The hard ass in me comes out, "You know, we DON'T HAVE to provide him with a/c."
F just stares at me, then walks away.
OK, so yes, maybe we DO have to provide him with a/c, even though that's no where stated in the contract. My point is, I hate being a landlord. It seems that every time F and I plan something that requires us to spend money, something at the Rental goes awry. This time? Replacing the ceiling in the 3rd bedroom that is frontin' as our dining room. That in itself is a story. 4 coats of paint bubbled and peeled off like pulling a sticky note off your desk. All my hard work, undone. Everyone we spoke to was baffled. Except Eldest Sister. "Sounds like moisture to me, a ventilation issue." Ah, her environmental engineering degree finally comes in handy. All 3 of the contractors we had come in to look said the same thing. So there goes $850. Plus whatever is wrong with the A/C that we are having professionals look at.(Tenant still has not called them, so he is still without a/c. His own doing.) Not the guy F knows who took 5 days to fix our A/C in 90+ degree weather. Yet another story.  Anyway, every time Tenant calls I dread what I'm about to hear. My stomach drops to my shoes. I love my old house, I really do, but like many people in the good ole' USA, I'm "under water" on it. And there is no way Tenant, who filed for bankruptcy in the past, is going to be able to get a loan for any amount that would come close to paying it off.  *sigh*
I guess the good thing is he wants to sign on for another year, however, with the clause that if he buys a house he can break the lease without penalty. My thought on this is, what if he just wants to break the lease and is just SAYING he's buying a house? Can I force him to prove that he's buying a house in order to break the lease? I just don't know these things. I am a lazy landlord. I am a lazy landlord because I don't want to BE a landlord.  I hate the feeling I get when Tenant calls. The overwhelming dread. The worry about how we are going to cover whatever expense is going to come up this time. The tense between F and I over it. We need to sell it, and be done with it, but in today's market? Um, yeah.

Any suggestions?

Eve is Lookin a Little Too Much Like Adam.....

Somehow, me thinks this bathing suit is on the wrong mannequin.

I'm just sayin.........

Zappos, or more likely Nike, you may want to look into this.

Dessert Fairy, Stricks Again

Around 3pm the other day, F calls to inquiry if I would like some cupcakes. I said SURE!

I think we all know where this is going....................

Yep, another uncovered dessert.

This time however, they had sat out since 2ish. F got home shortly after 7pm. It always amazes me that badly contained desserts make it through the ride home.

And yet, surprisingly, they were still moist 2 days later when I finally got around to eating them. (I'VE BEEN BUSY.yes, too busy for chocolate, feel my pain.)  Mind you of course, I'd covered them with plastic wrap. Over tooth picks so the frosting wouldn't stick.

Wait, what did you say?

E-mail I sent F:
09:10 AM
i have no idea where my cell phone is.

(we send each other e-mails when we forget our phones at home or couldn't find them before we left for work so the other person doesn't freak out when their calls go unanswered)

F's response:
9:11 AM
 nice... when did you have it last?

Me:
9:15 AM
yesterday.


Silence ensued for several hours there after until he sent me an e-mail in answer to a question about our evening plans:

F:
1:02 PM
no need to go and it doesn't start till 10 anyways so we wont be home till midnight... answer my text (we are old and must be in bed before midnight. what can i say.)

Me:
1:18 PM
Dude, do you not remember the e-mail I sent you this morning????????????
(yes, I am decidedly over 30 and still say DUDE. I can't quit it!)

Then at 4:30pm he calls me, at work:

F: "HAHAHAHA DH, I know you left your cell at home, but I keep calling it!!"

*insert eye roll and head shake here*