I feel like I say these things a lot: "That dog will be the end of me!" "Jeggings will be the end of me!" "Typhoid will be the end of me!"
It sometimes makes me feel a touch melodramatic.
I had a few problems going on today that I was pretty sure were going to be the end of me. They were, in no particular order:
1.) my fleeting youth
2.) autobiographies of successful television writers
3.) allergies
4.) my persistent inability to dress like anything other than a middle-aged prison librarian
5.) the lack of funds to outfit my life with a nauseating amount of Herman Miller furniture
6.) salad
7.) Bejeweled Diamond Mine
Then I came upon something that, not unlike those shiny cubes in Bejeweled Diamond Mine, blasted apart all the others and became my immediate focus:
8.) malfunctioning thermometer
This is somewhat a result of no. 3. I have a scratchy throat and stuffy nose and was feeling all around icky, so I decided to take my temperature. Instead of the thermometer making a few cheerful beeps to let me know that it was done with its diagnostic pursuits, it made one long, sustained beep.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
And it would not stop. Remember that
Friends when Phoebe can't get the fire alarm to turn off? It was like that.
I did what any normal, fully-functional adult would do: I pressed the button a few more times (
without saying any swear words), then went to find a coin to use to pry the battery cover off. It has been my experience that removing batteries stops annoying noises. Like in the Elmo! But, alas, that sucker would not pop off.
Meanwhile: beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
I wasn't sure what to do next. The only thing I could think of is that water isn't super great for electronics. So I put it in a sink full of water.
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| i don't see why this wasn't a good idea. |
It kept beeping. Somehow, it sounded louder. I just don't know.
I should point out that the thermometer said that my temp was 84.8, then said ERR, then showed a strange picture of a little stick man. It is possible that one of my aforementioned six things
was in fact the end of me, and the thermometer was alerting me of my own passing to the afterlife. Of course, the problem is now that I'm apparently still here in some form, ready to haunt you.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
I wrapped the thermometer up in a pair of gloves and went to Urban Outfitters. That also made sense to me. Remember, I'm either a ghost or deathly ill with fever. Or both!
I went to Urban Outfitters to try to work on nos. 1 and 4 on my list. It should be noted that no. 6, the salads, haven't been working out as well as I'd hoped, which made the prospect of trying on stuff less than appealing. Not that I really tried anything on. Have you been in UO lately? Is "Ironic Hooker" a look now?
Also not helping anything was the problem that I was having trouble discerning which was the men's and which was the women's section. Really. Also not helping this problem was:
a.) the fact that I am wearing a men's shirt from UO today, so I have (historically) a problem with the androg thing
b.) The only person browsing near me was a tranny.
I did my best. I bought two tenty v-neck shirts. In black. Yep, that's the best I can do at UO.
Guess what I found when I went home?
(beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep)
Before I left, I had sent this email to my spouse:
Subject: In case you get home and I'm not there
here are the answers:
1.) yep, i broke the thermometer
2.) yep, that's why it's making that noise
3.) nope, i couldn't get the battery out
4.) yep, that's why it's in a sink full of water
5.) nope, i don't know why i thought that would work.
His response to that message was "did you try a hammer? :)"
I am 99% sure that he was kidding.
I, however, was not.
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| diagnosis: broke. |
So that's one thing that will not be the end of me. Today.