Absurdities: Mental Test and Open Shelving

May 14, 2017 / skidaz / Leave a comment

What a week it’s been! As some of you know, I managed to survive a graceless fall which resulted in forehead cuts, a protruding bump, and two, black eyes. (You really didn’t expect me to show my face, but this picture depicts my current status.) I mopped up the blood, bandaged the wounds, and went to bed with a raging headache. Then it occurred to me, “Sue, are you mentally with it?” I asked my dogs aloud:

“What is your name? Sue Skidmore.”

“Where were you born? Youngstown, Ohio.”

“What year is it? 2017”

Well, this nonsense went on for a few more self-asked questions. Suddenly, it occurred to me if I suffered a head injury, how would I know? I could have said my name was Mary Jane Brown, born in Ames, Iowa, and the year was 1943. My dogs wouldn’t have objected. And if I was crazy, how would I know?

Given my astounding revelation, I practically fell off the bed with laughter. Absurd lunacy!

Then to add proverbial insult to my injuries, the next morning a guy came by to give an estimate on redoing my kitchen cabinets. Since the cabinets would have cost a fortune to replace, I hoped Andres would offer a less expensive alternative. He did. In my naïveté, I expected: “I’ll be back in three to six weeks to start this project.”

No. He retrieved from his truck his fancy battery-operated screwdriver and swiftly removed all the cabinet doors. I was busy dumping stuff from the drawers–stuff from several junk drawers I hadn’t seen in two decades! Damn, I’ve acquired a lot of scotch tape and too many bottles of the same spice.

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“Sue, it will take a couple of weeks for me to get this done.” Off he went with doors and drawers. Maybe I did have a head injury, for I spent half the day trying to close non-existant drawers and doors. A visual nightmare through half-swollen-shut eyes. Visual proof of my ineptness as a housekeeper.

Ok. I can survive this chaos. Until…I read this article today.

I don’t give a rat’s hind end about that trend at my age. Doors are made to keep out Phoenix dust and to make my kitchen look presentable at a party. Absurd lunacy!

BTW, I think my real name is Hucklebarrie Finn. I think I’ve floated down the mighty Mississippi in Hannibal on a number of occasions. I own 12 pair of scissors and 9 tins of cinnamon. I have over 20 coffee mugs, 15 random plates, three old skillets, and five aprons. (Aprons? I prefer a clothes change.) Message me if you’re in need of any of the above. Downsizing….

You Saved My Life. No, You Saved Mine

April 24, 2017 / skidaz / Leave a comment

While in my early 20’s, I took a graduate school course in educational philosophy and discovered I was an existentialist–make every decision as if it is your last decision. I embraced that idea, and thus, I never looked back with “would have, could have, or should have.” Further, I don’t suffer from “buyer’s remorse.” Once I make a reasoned decision, I don’t dwell on it. It’s the proverbial water over the dam, regardless of the outcome.

In 1983, I made the biggest decision of my life to date. I gave up my dream job, I forsook my rising political career, I left my family, and I followed my spouse to his fledgling company 2,500 miles across country. Now, my decision was not painless; I found myself far away from friends and my career. Admittedly, for a while, I suffered from depression. I had no job and no friends; my spouse worked 10-12 hours a day. I had no reason to get out of bed until noon. I didn’t shower for days at a time. My dog didn’t care I smelled in our tiny condo, and my spouse was too tired to care.

I slipped further into the depression abyss and wild thoughts danced through my mind. My local Ohio celebrity status was reduced to zero. No one in Scottsdale, Arizona, knew my name. Until….

I ventured to the condo complex pool. A much younger woman than I sat alone among the snowbird, winter visitors. We conversed; Julie, too, had moved from a small town in North Dakota to follow her spouse. She, too, had no friends, nor family. She, too, was a nobody like me.

Julie and I became fast friends; we shared secrets; we shared advice. She nannied for me when my eldest was born. When she and her family moved back to North Dakota 26 years ago, I missed her. I’d often wished we could at least chat about her sub zero weather as I picked lemons.

Last week, Julie and her husband came to Phoenix. When they arrived at my front door, she and I hugged and cried, “Sue, you saved my life.”

“No, Julie, you saved mine.”

Tie game.

Friday from Hell

March 27, 2017 / skidaz / Leave a comment

When I worked full-time, I rejoiced on TGIF. I reveled in a weekend of fun and foolishness. However, Friday, March 24th was deplorable.

First, I was awakened by the sound of heaving. (One of my dogs, an inherited Heinz, burrows herself every night under the blanket.) I leaped from the bed, threw back the cover, only to witness her vomit a disgusting mess of grass and yellow bile on the sheet and mattress cover. I looked at the clock–5:50 AM. Really?

After sentencing the soiled linens to the washer, I went to make a cup of coffee. Damn! Out of K cups! Remembering my grandmother’s advice to never leave home without donning clean underwear, I got dressed, semi-combed my bed hair, and drove to the Golden Arch’s drive through. “One small cup of coffee, please with cream.

“That will be $1.08 at the first window.”

As I reached in my purse to retrieve the money, I remembered my wallet was on my kitchen table. I scoured the bottom of my purse for errant change–67 cents. Now what? Fortunately, I don’t store my credit cards in may wallet, so I offered the clerk a charge card. Her face was filled with disgust as she swiped my card. I imagined her thinking, “Dumb old broad, driving a nice car, without $1.08 in cash. She must not own a hairbrush either.”

Wait! It gets worse. The mail comes with my credit card bill. I peruse it and quickly realize my account has been compromised. Immediately, I phoned. “Enter your zip code, enter the last four digits of your credit card number. Press one for….Press two…. ” What? I need to talk to someone; no choices dealt with my issues.

Two hours after this mayhem began, I finally talked to Amber, and my compromised card was cancelled. But March Madness didn’t end.

My house phone rang once, then stopped. Again and again. Once. Then, nothing. The house phone screen message, “Line in use.” I can’t deal with this; I destined in end up in the emergency room on a Friday night. I’ll suffer a full-blown heart attack, die on the gurney, while all the drunk, car-accident victims are ushered into ICU. My cell phone quickly connected me to the cable phone service, and Frantesa answered.

Swiftly, my Friday from hell vanished. When I explained my problem, she offered help. “What’s your first name?”

“Sue.”

“Miss Sue, let me reset your modem. Are you physically able to unplug this and that?”

What? I’ve not lost all the cards in my deck…yet. “Certainly.”

“This will take a few moments. Since you said you’re older than me, do you have any words of advice for me?”

What? I’m trying to get my phone fixed. She persisted. “Frantesa, you are 29-years old. Vote. Pay attention to local, state, and national issues.”

“We’re not allowed to discuss politics with customers. Come on, give me some to improve my life.”

What? Now, I’m a shrink? “Frantesa, your goal in life is to be remembered for what you gave, not what you had.”

“Wow, Miss Sue, those are powerful words. I do give, but not enough. I’m sorry I can’t resolve your phone problem. A technician will be by tomorrow morning.”

NEVER in my long history had this cable company scheduled promptly. “By the way, Miss Sue, I flagged your account. You’ll receive a $10 credit, and I will receive an urgent message when your problem is fixed.”

The technician arrived three minutes ahead of schedule Saturday morning and within another five minutes, my phone problem vanished. Even in light of the vitriolic hate currently spread across America, our country is brimming with wonderful people who give, regardless of what they have. Frantesa, thank you.