My laptop is out of commission for 2-3 business days. The plastic on the power cable has cracked and some of the wires are broken. I am tempted to blame one or more cats, since they have been caught chewing on headphone wires in the past.
This post is coming to you from Steady's laptop in the built-in soundproof cubicle by the bathroom. It's a tiny computer "desk" at the end of the hall, directly under the air conditioner. And since it's Phoenix in June, that basically means I'm in a little tunnel of white noise.
And I would have just found the angle at which the power cable will charge the computer and then lived like that until the new cable arrived. However, while I was finding that position Saturday night, there were crackling noises.
I would have wrapped the thing in some tape or something, really. Probably. But the crackling noises caused my boyfriend to leap up and unplug my laptop with much urgency. I think if I plugged it back in, he might have a heart attack. And I like him a lot, so we're not going to do that.
So. My little laptop is out of commission until the new cable arrives. The good news is that I don't have to pay for it. The bad news is that packages have to be claimed in the office during normal business hours. Which begin half an hour after I am supposed to leave for work and end about when I am supposed to leave work. It might be Saturday before I actually get the damned thing.
The really good news is that without the internet to distract me, it turns out I am (at least, temporarily) as hyperactive as my mother or my sister. The thing was deemed verboten and I had to find something else to do with my time.
So I rearranged my boyfriend's closet. At eleven o'clock on a Saturday night. Because what else was I going to do with myself? I am in charge of laundry around here (and in exchange for this and some light cooking, I do not clean the kitchen or wash dishes. Which is good for the vermin level of our abode.) and my boyfriend frequently replies to my cries of "That doesn't actually match! At all!" with "I have no other clean clothes."
And then I walk into the room with his closet in it and... I see lots and lots of clothes. And then I shrug and remind myself that he's a grown man and if he wants to wear a navy blue t-shirt with black pants and brown shoes, that's his business, but I see no reason to get to the laundry.
It turns out that he's not willing to wear long sleeves when it's more than a hundred degrees outside. Which is weird, because every destination in this metropolitan hell is air conditioned to uncomfortable levels. I keep a sweater with me anytime I think I might have to go indoors...
But whatever. I rearranged the closet so that what I see are the clothes that he'll actually consider wearing. I also filled a trash bag with clothes that he will never consider wearing whatever the weather. ("There are short sleeved shirts in that drawer! I've seen them! There is no reason to do laundry. There are five clean shirts in that drawer!")
Tonight, I made our first dinner from Relish!. We did print the shopping list and we actually went out and bought the food. And tonight I cooked one of those meals. It was very tasty, except that the salad was more about form than function ("It says not to cut the lettuce leaves. So, I'm going with it. I am following the instructions. I do not know how we are supposed to eat this, but I am arranging the salad on the plates as the recipe says. I know how you like pretty food.")
As I was finishing up and realizing that this meal required us each to use two plates, I asked Steady to clear some space on the table for us to eat. "We don't have a table." was his reply.
I should clarify that these are all my clothes. Including the ones I wore to work today. There is a reason why I tackled his small wardrobe rather than my own. This is the table we do not have:
I think that getting the clothes situation under control might just last me until the cord gets here.
