Day Almost Over | HumorOutcasts

Day Almost Over

June 9, 2018
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Today I am grateful the day is almost behind me.  Sheesh!  Some days I wonder if my entire being is in retrograde like the planets.  Don’t worry, it was nothing serious, but if you add up the drops and spills and foo-pah’s (I know it’s not spelled correctly) it can grate on even a positive persons nerves.  Like me.

 

Before I go any further in this missive, I’d like to thank you all for the wonderful birthday wishes.  I’ve read almost all of them and work on more any chance I get.  Onward and upward, or should I say downward?  I’m only gonna hit on the high spots because you have a life and better things to do.

 

I baked a rhubarb cake last night to take to the YMCA this morning as a birthday treat.  We ladies who do water aerobics sit around and gab over tea or coffee after class and invariably half of the Y saunters past to eavesdrop and/or scrounge goodies.  It’s fun.

 

This morning I carefully cut the cake in even pieces, popped the lid back on and put it in the bottom of a large cloth bag along with plates, forks and napkins.  Then I set it on the counter near my purse, next to my swimming suit which I was taking into the living room when I had my breakfast along with Good Morning America.  I know.  I live a wild and crazy life.

 

I arranged my tray like always and tweaked my pinky through a strap on the suit like always, turned like always and headed out.  Except it wasn’t the suit.  It was the handle of the bag with the cake, which got a mind of its own, did a two-and-a-half-flip-with-a-twist, like an Olympic ski jumper and landed face down on the floor.  I said, “Goodness me, whatever will I do now?”

 

When I picked it up, being careful to at least keep the lid on, I was not happy.  Inside all of those nice evenly sliced pieces had shifted to one side and overturned like dirt on a construction site.  I pasted it back together as best I could, finished my breakfast and got dressed with that swim suit on under my clothes.

 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with this shirt today,” I said to Himself, tugging at the neckline.  “It’s choking me and feels weird!”  He said, “It would probably feel better if you turned it around.  I don’t think the sparkles are supposed to be in the back.”  I told him about my earlier episode with the cake and he said, “If everything in your life went okay, you’d have nothing to write about.”  Tru Dat!

 

After the Y, I had to fly in the door and change clothes before having lunch with friends and then participating in a presentation mid-afternoon.   HABAND just delivered my new white pants and they fit!  Guys, you can leave now if you want, but if not just bear with me.  I had on colored underwear and since I am neither Madonna, nor Miley Cyrus, I had to change them she they wouldn’t show through.  But most of my tightie-whities were already in the laundry.  So I dug to the bottom of the drawer, holding up a pair while trying to do the hip-size-versus-panty-size-versus-can-I-even-get-into-these math.

 

They went on.  But the waist was tight.  Would I be able to stretch the elastic a little?  Oh come on, ladies, you know exactly what I’m talking about.  Especially if you are of a certain size, like a real person is.  Who hasn’t stretched a T-shirt or sleeve?  Or panties?  So I shoved my thumbs in and put on the pressure.  . .alot. . .until they ripped right down the side seam. . .four inches!  Since I was out of white panties and time, I wore them anyway.

 

Though it doesn’t happen often, I once again have to admit Himself was right about something.  If I didn’t have the life I have I would not have any stories to write about.  At all!  FYI – The cake was still great; I managed to put the shirt on correctly at the Y; and I’m washing those torn panties.  Who knows when I might be in a crunch again and need them?  Besides, they were very comfortable.  And you’re welcome.

Mary Mooney

From cranking hair in my Midwestern town of Sheboygan, Wisconsin, to eastern Pennsylvania, to three years writing for large hotels in Jakarta, Indonesia, humor has been my constant.

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