Things I forgot to do this morning:
- Turn off the receiver
- Pack a new box of oatmeal
- Mail my taxes
As a result, I have really bad breath, my house may be burning down as we speak (or communicate over the internet, or whatever), and I'll have to wait an extra month to get my tax refund . That's the cliff notes version of this entry. If you'd like to read about the events that led up to these unfortunate developments, scroll on down.
1. Because I am a nice person, I decided that I would tape all the shows we're addicted to for Joel while he is in South Carolina. Since we are still technologically living in the 90s, that means that I have to use an actual tape and a VCR, not a Tivo like normal people. I'm not delusional enough to think I can program a VCR (and as an aside, I no longer even feel guilty or stupid for being the stereotypical female who is unable to program a VCR, because every couple of weeks I have to tell the guy from Medical Video -- who spends his days producing award winning, television-quality movies, using a room full of very expensive recording and editing equipment -- what happened on Lost, because he screwed up setting his VCR to tape it), but I thought I might be able to tape something that I was actually watching.
BUT -- For reasons I still do not fully understand, we have this thing called a receiver. It hooks up to our TV, and because we don't have enough cables, you have to turn it on when you want to watch a DVD, which then is connected to the receiver, which is connected to the TV. At least I think that's how they are all connected, but I'm not really sure. So to be on the safe side, I always just turn them all on. Then, I use remote #1 to change the VCR input to the TV channel you want to record. Remote #2 changes the channel on the the TV to channel 3, and then remote #1 changes the input on the VCR to "TV". Remote #3 is standing by in case it is needed and to provide moral support. Last night, I got this all to work on the first try. And I recorded 24. And I cut out the commercials. Tell me I'm not the best girlfriend EVER.
But, as I was lying in bed trying to fall asleep, I remembered that I had forgotten to turn off the receiver. The receiver is like a laptop, and it gets hotter and hotter the longer it's been on. We have this trendy compartmentalized Ikea (of course) TV stand, so the very large receiver just fits on its shelf, which turns into a mini-sauna as the receiver just keeps giving off heat that has nowhere to go. I was not in the mood to get out of bed, so I made a mental note to turn it off in the morning. This morning, in a turn of events no one could have foreseen, I forgot about it. I may come home to a pile of ash this evening. Whoops.
And that brings us to #2. This lapse of memory probably won't result in my house burning down, but it is even more tragic,because we have insurance on the house. If it burns down, we'll get a new one built that won't have 100-year old wood floors and holes in the walls (yes, the holes are STILL THERE and they're not going away anytime soon). But I am not aware of any insurance product that provides coverage to non-morning people when they forget to bring breakfast to work.
As you probably have figured out by now, I hate waking up in the morning. I will do just about anything to sleep a few minutes later, which includes eating breakfast at work. Unless it's one of those wonderful days when there are free bagels floating around, I eat oatmeal for breakfast while I'm checking all the emails that came in overnight. I keep a stash of oatmeal packets at work that I try not to let go below a week's supply of breakfasts. I meant to bring in a new box this morning, but... I left it on the counter. I'm starting to notice a trend. So I had to eat one of the Quaker Apple-Cinnamon packets that I keep shoved in the back of my desk for emergencies. Next to Plain, Apple Cinnamon Quaker Oatmeal is my least favorite oatmeal flavor. It's just nasty, and it gives me really bad breath. So my apologies to everyone in my office that has to talk to me today. Because I also forgot to bring in some more Dentyne Ice.
Lastly, I forgot to put my tax forms in the mail... again. I've been meaning to do this since Friday, when I finally did my taxes, but it's harder to put something in a mailbox than you'd think -- when you don't live in suburbia and have a mailbox right outside your house. I think this particular bit of memory malfunction might be my subconscious trying to get me to re-check my calculations before I mail it off to the IRS, because I'm pretty sure I screwed them up. Well, sorry Freud, but I'm not re-doing calculations that have me getting a fat refund. The IRS can just fix it for me, like they did last year. That is their job, after all.
The idea of screwed up taxes and my house burning down just reminded me of the scene from Office space (which I watched on TBS on Friday) where Peter comes in to work, the day after he slid the letter claiming responsibility for the rounding-up scam under Lumberg's door, expecting to be arrested, but instead finds Initech burned to the ground. If they make a movie about my life, hope it's as awesome as Office Space, and I think I'd like to be played by Natalie Portman. Or maybe Penelope Cruz. And while we're at it, if you could just go ahead and make my advance royalty checks out to CASH, that would be terrific. Mmmhmmm, Ok then.
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