I’m sure glad I’m a going with the flow kind of person. Sometimes it’s just not worth getting your knickers bunched up in a wad over unexpected circumstances. Like collecting all your laundry only to discover you don’t have fabric softener. So, you put it off for the next day until after you’ve been able to buy some. But, that requires a fall-back
wardrobe the following morning in order to get you your coffee in the lobby. What I’m saying is, I had to wear the only clean pair I had of workout pants down to breakfast. These were a heavy weight, black cotton pair that had cooked in the dryer. I really didn’t think they looked THAT bad. Okay, I admit I looked like I had water in the basement. But, it wasn’t until Confidante said his seven year old son wanted his pants back that I realized just how small they’d shrunk. “Are you saying I look fat in these?” I snapped.“No,” said Confidante, “You normally don’t wear pants that tight. It fits you like skin.” I took a gander at myself in the mirror near the desk. Damn, if I didn’t look like a blackened banana in them.
I saw my first Christmas display yesterday. We haven’t even had Halloween yet. When’re we gonna learn?
For some reason I’ve been dragging my butt around for the past few days. I don’t know what feels heaviest, my sinuses or my feet. This is the time of year when Mother Nature can’t seem to decide if she wants to be cool or hot, dry or humid, and if she’s had enough rain. The mold count must be high because everyone’s walking around sneezing. Folks at the hotel seem to have survived the virus that took its toll. Even the guests were sick. I kept to my room working and staying out of harm’s way.
Guess who has an almost new pool table? Yes, finally. Two men were here today taking the pool table apart and re-felting it. We’ve even got new cups. I’d be overjoyed, except I haven’t played pool in at least six weeks, and goodness knows when I’ll get to play again. With Mr. Pool gone and Confidante in class at night there’s no one left. I asked the general manager if the men couldn’t wire the table like a car’s security warning. Every time someone with a glass of milk, or worse, gets near it, a recorded voice will shout, “Step away from the table.”
My portable canvas closet has told me it’s time to change into my fall wardrobe. The pole disengaged from one end causing all the hanging items to fall on the floor. That was a rather blunt way of telling me I have too many clothes on one rod. Well, at least I don’t stuff too many clothes into the washing machine like some guests. Yesterday, I saw a woman roll a huge metal suitcase the size of a small trunk into the laundry with a tall laundry basket full of what looked like a month’s worth of sheets, towels and clothes. I’m assuming she’d used the sheets and towels elsewhere where they didn’t have a laundry.
Well, we may not have ice machines, but we do have a washer and dryer, and you don’t need to bring your own sheets and towels here, either. But, you do have to bring your own batteries for your…ahem. See blog post dated 9/9/11.
wardrobe the following morning in order to get you your coffee in the lobby. What I’m saying is, I had to wear the only clean pair I had of workout pants down to breakfast. These were a heavy weight, black cotton pair that had cooked in the dryer. I really didn’t think they looked THAT bad. Okay, I admit I looked like I had water in the basement. But, it wasn’t until Confidante said his seven year old son wanted his pants back that I realized just how small they’d shrunk. “Are you saying I look fat in these?” I snapped.“No,” said Confidante, “You normally don’t wear pants that tight. It fits you like skin.” I took a gander at myself in the mirror near the desk. Damn, if I didn’t look like a blackened banana in them.
I saw my first Christmas display yesterday. We haven’t even had Halloween yet. When’re we gonna learn?
For some reason I’ve been dragging my butt around for the past few days. I don’t know what feels heaviest, my sinuses or my feet. This is the time of year when Mother Nature can’t seem to decide if she wants to be cool or hot, dry or humid, and if she’s had enough rain. The mold count must be high because everyone’s walking around sneezing. Folks at the hotel seem to have survived the virus that took its toll. Even the guests were sick. I kept to my room working and staying out of harm’s way.
Guess who has an almost new pool table? Yes, finally. Two men were here today taking the pool table apart and re-felting it. We’ve even got new cups. I’d be overjoyed, except I haven’t played pool in at least six weeks, and goodness knows when I’ll get to play again. With Mr. Pool gone and Confidante in class at night there’s no one left. I asked the general manager if the men couldn’t wire the table like a car’s security warning. Every time someone with a glass of milk, or worse, gets near it, a recorded voice will shout, “Step away from the table.”
My portable canvas closet has told me it’s time to change into my fall wardrobe. The pole disengaged from one end causing all the hanging items to fall on the floor. That was a rather blunt way of telling me I have too many clothes on one rod. Well, at least I don’t stuff too many clothes into the washing machine like some guests. Yesterday, I saw a woman roll a huge metal suitcase the size of a small trunk into the laundry with a tall laundry basket full of what looked like a month’s worth of sheets, towels and clothes. I’m assuming she’d used the sheets and towels elsewhere where they didn’t have a laundry.
Well, we may not have ice machines, but we do have a washer and dryer, and you don’t need to bring your own sheets and towels here, either. But, you do have to bring your own batteries for your…ahem. See blog post dated 9/9/11.