Heavy Bunkbeds and Lukewarm Showers

I have an announcement - I'm still slacking.

Today was Current Husband's birthday, so we started with donuts and ended with margaritas, with a tackle football game in the middle (The Son's, not us).  I had two freelance projects due tonight, and we spent a large part of the evening looking for the bill holder.  You know, the one thing that while you're moving you say, "We can't lose this, bills are due next week!"  We spent much of the weekend looking for this 8 1/2 x 11 plexiglass object, stuffed with bills, but alas, we cannot pay.  

In the middle of the day, we decided to unload The Son's new bunkbed.  We paid to have it assembled, and felt like we were being extraordinarily clever, but the store made it clear that the bed wouldn't be assembled until it was in the house.  CH and I unloaded the huge 5' x 8' box, and it became clear that my Little Engine blew a gasket and lost a wheel.  OH HELL NO is what my engine was saying, followed by SON-OF-A-BITCHIN' THING and then (*&$#)*&$&@)&@!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  We tried to push it across the grass, and in the process we plowed a nice furrow in the yard.  On the plus side, the front yard looks more like a Grant Wood painting than it did.  

Our neighbor across the street, husband half of the cat feeding team named, I kid you not, Darryl, was mowing, and he actually stopped his mower to watch us try to manipulate the box across the yard.  Already, we are entertaining the neighbors.  Later, I started fantasizing that the neighborhood is really evil, and maybe the current residents are all possessed and throwing hexes at us, like "Make the box 100 pounds heavier" and "Sic the feral cat pack on their children" or "Start the dripping in the pipes under the sink".

Tonight's curse was on the water heater.  I got in the shower at 10:10 p.m. to take a lovely hot shower before I blogged and got in my warm bed, and instead, my shower never got above the "tepid" mark on the heat index.  I didn't even bother to shave my legs, because they were covered in goosebumps and I would've cut the heck out of them.  I am currently standing at our computer in the kitchen (my laptop is still out of commission from the Vanilla Ice virus), surrounded by cords because we can't find more than two phone jacks in the house to hook up the computer, in my towel and robe, hoping the electric doesn't get shut off from non-payment, shivering, and praying the Prilosec I took an hour ago helps keep me from guppy puking my margarita all night long. Again, I am bringing sexy back.  

Happy Birthday, CH.  You are clearly one lucky man.