When I finished work last night I went into the gym to have a workout.
The place had been closed for close to 30 minutes so I knew I'd finally have a
chance to do my workout without any interruptions.
And it was true. I left just before midnight and went straight home to
bed. The big problem was I wore my sweaty shirt and shorts to the
car. It was close to zero outside and I definitely caught a chill.
I'm sick. It sucks.
My Personal Trainer uses 'Diva' in her business title and Sunnie has started
calling me Diva because of it. After Sunnie discovered I was a certified
First Aid Attendant, she asked if I'd save her life if something happened her
quote to my response:
"Divas don't leave bodies in dumpsters."
My second quote came from an email a few minutes ago:
"If you believe that your thoughts originate inside your brain -- do you
also believe that television shows are made inside your television set?"
Somebody needs some sleep...
Reminiscing about the past has always been something I'm good at, especially
when I'm not particularly fond of the present. Today it's because I'm
sick. My co-workers from Hell are also sick and they joked that it was
from 'making out' with me... I blamed it on a couple of the female athletes and
their trainer because they're hot. And sick too.
Whatever. I'm not feeling well and I hate feeling this way and so my brain
stops functioning on present time and focuses on the past. The past when,
apparently, I also didn't have the ability to type and this is taking forever to
type and correct. Even the spell check is coming back with the wrong
results --the computer's way of saying "I don't know what the Hell you're
trying to say!"
Anyway, to the past and to one of my favourites.
My First Love can actually be named by her first name anyway and I think of her
every time I hear of someone named Brenda. It's been at least 14 years since I
last saw her, maybe longer but 1990 sounds about right. It's been 18 years since
the first time I met her and I can still remember what she was wearing and how
she smelled that night. Calvin Klein's Obsession and it couldn't be more
appropriate.
I was 14 at the time and at a dance put on by the youth group I was in. I saw
these 2 girls look at me and one of them pointed. I was nothing to look
at, so I was a little disconcerted to see people pointing at me. My
initial reaction is to find a corner to hide in and check the fly on my
pants. It wasn't until years later (one of the last times saw the two of
them) that I discovered the reason why. Brenda's friend had used the
zipper on my pants to light a match for her cigarette a few months earlier at a
similar function. I'd been sitting out on the steps of the dance hall
feeling sorry for myself about something and she asked me if I had a lighter. I
didn't (having smoked all of 3 cigarettes in my life) so she asked to use my
zipper instead. She put the match in her mouth and leaned in to light
it. It didn't work the first time, but I wasn't complaining. A 14 year old
boy has a woman doing close to an obscene act upon you and there ain't gonna be
no whinin'!
So, that's how she knew me. I got that a lot in the early 90s. Other
people I hung out with started reminiscing about how we all met and not one of
them had made enough of an impression on me that I could remember meeting
them. One girl said that we'd met in 1989 at Cultus Lake when I was
running along the highway. My sister had driven away from the camp we were
at and within minutes traffic was backed up because of an accident. I initially
had a feeling my sister had been hurt and dashed down the highway to see if
there was anything wrong. Apparently this girl was in a van in the line-up
and someone else in the van recognized me but wasn't sure why I was running full
bore down the highway. That had always stuck in her mind and that was my
first impression to her. To me, she just phased in to the group of friends
I had at the time. My sister actually witnessed the accident and was the first
on the scene.
Back to Brenda. It was at a dance and she and her friend approached and
asked me to dance. I ended up dancing with them for the rest of the night --the
two of them hanging off me and teasing me by removing my tie and shoes and then
trying to take my shirt and pants off. I had a great time and it wasn't
until they'd left that I realized my big mistake.
I didn't know her name.
After all that it never occurred to me to ask --I was preoccupied.
I went to every function I could all summer just to see her again and every one
I went to she didn't show. I was all over the place: Richmond, Vancouver,
Maple Ridge... even went to the Okanagan one weekend just in case. But she
wasn't there.
I gave up. I was upset but it was so frustrating going to all these things
and looking for that one girl and not finding her anywhere that I just gave
up. And sure enough the one thing I didn't go to she was there.
It was about a month later that we were both together again and we hit it off
exactly as before if not better. I finally learned her name and was elated
with how well we talked and got to know each other, but then she had to leave
early. but now I knew where she lived and how often I'd get to see her. I
was almost 15 when we'd race towards one another just hold onto one another for
as long as we could. We started seeing each other off and on for the next
few years and I still regret not asking her to my prom. she'd started
seeing a much-older friend of mine just beforehand and I was too upset with her
and didn't want to talk. It would have been a great time if I'd asked
her. In reality, it was one of the worst nights of my life. But that's a
story for another day.
It was actually late in 1990 when we were last together. It was in
Victoria and I hadn't expected to see her there. She showed up at my hotel
room door on the Saturday afternoon and I was so out of it, not having slept
since Thursday. One of the rules we had in our group was that if any girls
were coming to your hotel room, the door must remain open. I remember putting something
under the door to keep it open, but it didn't matter and the door soon
shut. We stayed in my room for the rest of the afternoon and then went to
the dinner and dance afterwards. Her friend was there too and the three of
us headed back to my room afterward. That was the same night I met Brad
Roberts of the Crash
Test Dummies, but that wasn't very memorable. He just asked why there
were all these kids (we still were --I was 17 turning 42) were dressed up so
nicely in October. After we'd been at the dance for a while and
disappeared back up to my room, we talked for a few hours. Brenda's friend
wanted to go, but Brenda insisted on staying. She started crying after her
friend left and I found out they'd been fighting for quite sometime --about
me. Really strange territory for me, for sure. That's when I finally
found out why they'd approached that first night years earlier. As it was
we ended up talking until about 4 in the morning and fell asleep in each others
arms. My roommates had all snuck at some point during the night and I'm
sure they were all more than a little surprised to see me there with
Brenda. None of my roommates knew who she was before. The next
morning she snuck off to her room and I awoke to a sudden and very loud knock at
the door. It was the guy we all referred to as 'Dad' and Dad was more than
a little curious to know how long Brenda had been in my room. I could
never lie to Dad, and not just because he towered above me in height and could
most likely crush me with his bare hands if he were ever so inclined. Dad always
just epitomized trust and respect and there was no way you could look in the
face and say anything but the truth. He asked and I replied, "All
night." I hadn't even thought about the door rule and I brought it
up. He waved me off with a sweep of his hand and asked why the two girls had
been fighting that night I told him and admitted I was quite surprised when I
learned the truth too. He smiled and said thanks and that he'd see me for
breakfast in an hour. Brenda wasn't at the breakfast and it would be 2
years until I saw her again.
This time, 1992, I was getting closer and closer to wrapping up my involvement
with the youth group (although it wasn't actually until 1994 when I left for
good). She'd come out to see me because it was a special night for me and
she knew it must be getting close to the time I'd be leaving. My
girlfriend at the time refused to even come out to the event, but I was more
than happy to see Brenda again. We spent the night together, but this time
it was simply holding each other as we curled up in a big chair in my parents'
basement. It was a quiet way of saying goodbye knowing that we'd drifted
far enough apart that there was no turning back no matter how much we both felt
like giving it another try. That was the last time we were together, but I
know my father and hers still keep in touch. I hear stories every once in
a while. She was dating the brother of a friend of mine back in '92 and
apparently they're still together. No kids, but a couple of pets.
In 1987 on a spring night, I saw the girl 'd fall in love with for the first
time. She wore a black dress that hugged her closely and a black top that fell
gracefully off her shoulders. She smelled like flowers even in that smoking room
and her hands always shook a little whenever I held them. Or maybe it was
mine for being so excited to have a wonderful person in my life.
And I'm sure she's still wonderful now.
I'm admittedly getting an early start on research for next degree. Have
to finish the one I'm on, but I've already talked to a prof at the university
I'm interest in going to about my research project and the potential for my
thesis. He thinks it's great, but incredibly intensive which is why I'm
getting an early start...
I've actually been able to download the journals I'm looking for and, boy, am I
glad I did. I'm nowhere near done and as every month goes by I'm about 500
or 600 pages behind. Summarizing everything (about 25 journal pages to
each paragraph still puts this project at about 11,000 pages.
Plus appendices.
Crap.
I'm in way over my head.
On my shopping list for this special half-time show at the Super Bowl:
www.lingeriebowl.com brought to you
Dodge Truck no less...
What can I say? I'm a details man.
Okay, it's weird weather time around here. The office is closing in 30
minutes because of the weather --we had freezing rain this morning, but there's
snow expected tonight. Regardless, the weatherman on the radio just said
it's going to rain and then warm up with sunny periods. Maybe should've
thrown in a 'tomorrow' into that sentence... I don't think there'll be any sunny
periods tonight.
I like days like this --especially the gruelling 2-hours at the office.
Yep, I'm the diligent dedicated employee who comes in damn the weather and sets
down to work. Well, not really work, but I'm looking busy looking up
things on eBay!
Not finding anything I particularly like, though.
Once you leave the parking lot from this office, there's a bit of a winding
driveway to go down to get to the roadway. A lot of people tend to whip
around the corner, cutting it so close that I've seen people rub the curb on the
wrong side of the road.
It happened again today as I was just coming up the drive.
Even worse, I knew the offending driver and I've bugged her about it all day.
It reminds me of an incident a few years back when I was driving in my hometown
and a van started to pull out in front of me as I went to make a left
turn. As I yanked on the wheel to straighten out again, my middle finger
was at the ready to signal my appreciation to the driver of the van. My
finger started to rise and I looked closely at the right bastard of a driver to
see his expression at me driving beside him.
He was smiling and waving. He was the church pastor. Fortunately, my
finger didn't get too high above the door frame...
My life flashed before my eyes at the thought of a poor, starving student
ramming into me in the parking lot.
My life is boring.
My website still sits stagnant after I promised to do an update around
Christmastime. I was off from December 24 to January 5 and still didn't
spend 30 seconds on the damn thing.
One of these days... it's a good thing I didn't promise any of the 'regular
visitors' to that site that I'd be a good boy and regularly update.
Too bad it's not like this blog.
[ring! ring!] "Yeah?"
"Knee? This is Brain. What the Hell's going on down there?
"Well, we're not sure what happened. How's Left Knee holding up?
Keeping balance?"
"No, I'm having trouble with both of you, what's going on?"
"I was going to ask you the same thing!"
Okay, I hate lunges. Two days of My Exercise Program list 'lunges' as
parts of my program. I do lunges with dumbbells in each hand and then I
have a really complicated weight pulley system where I stand partially erect and
pull the weight towards me (about 35 pounds right now). I bend my elbow to bring
my hand to centre-chest and then turn in the opposite direction into a lunge.
But after doing 45 lunges with the dumbbells, my knees didn't really feel like
doing anything except seeing if they could make me face the ceiling. I
was, to put it mildly, a little wobbly.
I have goals that I'm following with My Personal Trainer. The big one of
course is weight loss. I have several secondary ones as well including my
'warm-ups' of 10 minutes on the rowing machine. I want to see how far I
can on the machine. It's good to have goals.
My big goal, weight loss, is to lose 35 pounds by April and I've shed 5 in my
first week of training. Today being Sunday, I'm definitely feeling the
effects of my exercise training, but I'm still feeling good about tomorrow.
I'll be headed into the office for around Noon so that I have time to get a good
workout in and have time for a shower before starting work for the day.
My last visit with my trainer also brought up another interesting point:
Every 10 years we've shed every single skin cell on our body. In essence,
we're starting anew every decade. That had a profound effect on me.
The last time I made so many changes in my life was 1994.
I'm starting everything, body and soul, fresh in 2004.
Last night was 'fight night' at the house. I'm being a total prick
after spending nearly 12 hours at work by collapsing on the couch with my kids.
I play with my daughter until it's her bath time and then I focus on my son
until it's his turn. I went straight from holding him to reading a story
to my daughter before it got close to her bed time. We also usually get
one goofy dance to whatever MP3 pops up on my computer at the time. My son
had his bath and I held him again as my wife got his bottle ready (which is a
new addition to his breast feeding schedule at 10:30 at night). With my
daughter in bed for the night and my son getting his last feeding before he went
to sleep, I made my way back to the couch to try and catch the hockey
highlights.
And fell fast asleep.
At 11:30 I'm woken by my wife who tells me to come to bed, but I'm tired and a
little disoriented so I ask her to give me a minute. I find when I wake up
suddenly like that my body shakes for a good 15 minutes and it's not a good time
for me to try and walk anywhere so I looked towards the TV and saw how late it
was. My wife turned on the brightest light in the living room and set
about crashing and banging pots and pans and other noisy things in the kitchen.
I thought 'boy that's really loud and kinda rude,' but tried to focus on getting
up instead.
She came back out and asked if I was coming to bed and I quickly replied, "Give
me a minute okay?" Tow which she responded, 'you never make time for me!'
And walked away.
2 months ago I asked her if she was even attracted to me anymore. She said
no.
A month ago I asked her if I should even bother trying to find my wife in all
the mix and she said she was worn out by the kids.
Fine.
We each wear 3 basic hats in this house. I'm the husband, father, and
provider (the bring home the bacon guy, but right now it's more or less cottage
cheese and rye bread...). My wife is the wife, the mother and (I hate to use
this term) the housekeeper.
But she doesn't have the energy to be my wife right now and I finally accepted
that at the end of December --giving her an ultimatum to find my wife again by
June or it could be too late to recover.
But I'm not being fair. She wants me to continue to fill all 3 roles I
have in the family and I've shifted focus to the latter two to avoid wanting to
see my wife for a while. I said I was tired of doing all the husband work
when she couldn't bring herself to be my wife. If there's going to be a
kiss goodbye in the morning, I better initiate it. If there's going to be
a kiss goodnight, I better be coming down to the bedroom and give her one or
she's going to be mad in the morning. It doesn't matter if I'm finally
sitting down to study for my university course or not, I have no excuse for
being up so late at night. I need to be there for my wife.
But she insists she can't and won't be there for me.
And then she gets mad when we never talk and storms off.
Wouldn't sitting down and talking help that situation?
We argue until half past midnight and I try and point out what I've typed here.
It's falling on deaf ears.
When we entered this marriage we both promised to be there for each other and
when she says she can't do it anymore, she expects me to step up and support her
when she isn't able to support me anymore, not understanding that I can't do it.
I don't have the energy for it anymore.
She plays up the role of victim. What if she were dying of a terminal
illness? Would I withdraw the same way? I say yes, if she started
every conversation with my faults like she does now. She wants more
emotional support from me, but says she can't give me any and she's proven time
and again over the past few years that there can't be support for me. THAT
is the exact reason why I started asking why I'm doing this?
But it's not supposed to be about me anymore. I should be happy to help
around the house and help with the kids and go to sleep at night and get up for
work in the morning only to come home and do it all over again. I need to
focus on her needs and my kids' needs just as I've done for years now. I
shouldn't think about doing anything for me because that's not the way it's to
work.
And it never will.
www.belinda.ca
Oh yeah. I'd vote for her any day.
Hehe.
If Bill Clinton were still president of the United States, he'd be eating out of
her palm at a moment's notice.
I'm sure there's some songs that survived the last playlist, but here
goes....
That's it for now.
I finally have a nickname for another one of My Kids. I haven't
seen Latina Lady since a few weeks before Christmas. She's the oldest of
my kids and is incredibly sweet and little bit sexy. Okay, a lot sexy.
So, while I talk diet and exercise with Alberta; talk dancing and good times
with Sunnie; I talk Victoria's Secret with- and get massages from Latina Lady.
I can think of no better way to inflate that ego of mine than to continue
working with these three.
Ewww!! Okay, get your mind out of the gutter. Since I started
with My Personal Trainer and gave my wife My Ultimatum; I decided there was one
more important step to take.
I'm not letting my wife see me naked until I'm satisfied with my training
program.
Despite the fact that I lost 2 inches off my waist after working in this new
department for a few months, my weight has gone up (excluding this week when it
dropped with my diet). But if it's not hanging around my waist, it's gotta
be somewhere and it's called 'muscle.' Sweet. But it's gone ignored
by my wife.
So, she gets to see next to nothing for the next few months.
"Well, this is it This is great This is what I always
wanted Where do we go from here? That’s the question of the year I think
you’re fine I think you’re hot This is what I always dreamed of The one
thing I forgot Was to get to know you."
--Stroke 9, 'Do It Again'
Last night was the first night in long time I can remember having a dream.
I'm sure I dream most nights, but nothing usually sticks around by the time I
stumble and scratch my way to the kitchen in the early hours of the day. Last
night's dream, I'll admit, was about Sex Caffeine.
But instead of my usual dreams about her (you can imagine), I had an annoying
dream about her. And it all stemmed from yesterday after I'd just posted My
Game of Cat and Mouse.
The timing for posting couldn't have been better. I was talking to Alberta
about a healthy cookie recipe she has and glanced down towards the coffee shop.
Just coming out of the doors was SC and a co-worker of mine from 5 years ago.
She's the one who made me blush when she asked me who I'm sleeping with ('My
Bad' - December 16, 2003).
My initial reaction to seeing SC was just to look away. I could see that
she saw me after 'Blush Factor 9' pointed to me down the hallway. I looked
away before she could wave, but I could tell she was going to. I just
continued with my conversation with Alberta, though. My next reaction was,
"Wow. She didn't come down to stop by... should I be upset?" I
wasn't. A few months back? Yes. Now, no. This is
healthy. I think. The third and final reaction was 'would Blush Factor 9 share
the story of my flustered reaction to her question back in December?'
But I'm so glad I got my last post out beforehand.
So last night's dream had SC in it. It was here at work and she called me
up to her office for a meeting. I can't remember what the meeting was
about, but I didn't know who there other people were. whatever the meeting
was about --in the grand tradition of meetings-- we got off on a tangent and I
felt like I was wasting my time. I was busy and had to run across campus a
few times, but kept coming back to the meeting. At one point, the most
memorable part of the dream, the subject talked about annoying and aggravating
jobs people have had. One of the people present turned to SC and asked
"didn't you have a really bad job here for a about a year?" That
made SC blush and look to me and I responded with a semi-disgusted sneering
smile that read 'nice. Is this why I'm here?' With that I walked away.
And then I woke up.
So what do I think it means? One thing I've come to accept is that I've always
imagined a relationship with SC to be perfect. And I should know better than
that. I'm a guy, so that means I'm allowed to be a dumb-ass about these
things too, right? To me, the other people at the meeting represent SC's friends
who are unknown to me. I think this comes from seeing her with someone I've
known for years and they've obviously just come from having coffee together. I
see her associating with people who have known me for a long time and wonder if
anything's ever said about what happened between us ('us' being SC & I or
the people around here I've known for years and me). SC's friends wouldn't know
me except from what they've heard and it was one of her friends who first got
her convinced that coffee equates sex. So, if there was a relationship between
us, that would be the first knock against it. How could I ever feel
comfortable around her friends and therefore, comfortable with her? And,
obviously, after her freak out in the Spring, can I ever feel comfortable when I
talk to her? That's why I stopped with the emails. Emails are so
unemotional and impersonal that what gets lost is the first thing people react
to and the thing I need from her is another 'reaction.' And visiting her
office is out of the question. I felt comfortable there when it was my
office, but the looks from my old co-workers gets to me. So that was cut
too. And it was finally at the beginning of My Year that I had
enough balls to simply say, "that's it. Enough."
And, thus my bad dream is done. On so many levels too.
See, I needed a break from Sex Caffeine. SC wasn't annoying or anything
like that. It was just that I was starting to come to my senses and realized
that there was in no way ever going to be a healthy relationship between this
woman & I. 'Friends' doesn't cut it when there's been an obvious connection
between us on another level.
But after her big freakout in the spring that initiated this nickname, I've been
wary every time I speak to her or send an email. Our network here at work lets
you know if you're message has been received and opened, deleted and responded
to. I just looked back over my emails --being curious as to the last time I
tried sending a message to her and saw it was December 18th. So, a pat on
the back to me for going over a month with an email sent to her.
But then I noticed the red 'x' on the envelope. That means although the message
was received, she just deleted it without opening it.
Which stirs up all sorts of things for me again. Did I do something wrong?
What was the message again? Is this why there haven't been any messages from her
in the past month? I start feeling guilty about the freak out again. I
have remind myself that there was nothing wrong with the email. It was the
picture of the cats with the Chihuahua 'spy' that I thought she'd like.
Innocent email. Waste of time, but still innocent.
So, instead of feeling the least bit concerned over the guilt that would have
permeated over me the last 6-8 months, I'm looking at this as yet another
opportunity to distance myself (at least until this summer) from my past
problems and move on. She's the cat and this mouse is running away.
My game with "Sex Caffeine" enters week #3 for 2004. I've
done great avoiding her. She's said hello to me in hallway in week #1 and
waved from her car as I was out for a run in week #2. Week #3 is half over
already and I haven't sent an email or dropped by to visit or anything else that starts the roller coaster ride all over again.
Which is good because this summer isn't looking too good.
One of my 'new tasks' around the office is coordinating volunteers for the
upcoming BC Summer Games. We're going to be a specially-designated department
within the Games and need several volunteers to assist. Several people on
campus have volunteered already and as the Games office officially opens on
Saturday means that I have to start coordinating these people. And who's
got an application in?
Sex Caffeine.
Enter me: swearing.
This year I've been more motivated than ever to start losing weight and
getting into better shape. I'm already in a shape, it's just kind of an
eggy shape and I don't want that anymore.
I've hired a personal trainer and I think I've annoyed her already. My
newly-discovered food allergies (as of spring 2003) makes it difficult to eat
anything healthy. Which, of course, met with an initial "Aw
damn. I'm only allowed to eat white bread? No corn whatsoever? Well,
you're the doctor here! I'm not gonna argue!"
The problem is I'm supposed to stay away from whole wheat.. anything, which
really kills any diet program.
My trainer set up a menu of meal alternatives after she found out I had a
tendency to eat 3 meals a day. I should be having 3 small meals
(breakfast, lunch and dinner) and 2 snacks. I always try to stay away from
snacking, but apparently it's important. Every meal has been altered for
me. For breakfast, I've been told to stay away from Special K and eat
either bran flakes, All Bran, egg on rye toast or a favourite now --a recipe for
oatmeal that she gave me. My coffee intake has dropped by over half and
I've replaced my other 'coffee times' with a 500ml bottle of water. I'm trying
to drink up to 2 litres of water a day. Doesn't always happen. Also, I'm
not using cream in my coffee anymore which is already over $100 less a year on
our grocery bill which is good because I've replaced it in the budget with Wasa
crackers. I actually like cottage cheese, so it was an easy addition to my
diet in the form of a snack. Lunch can no longer be the traditional PB&J on
white bread and I'm now having chicken on rye with a side salad (mainly
comprised of red cabbage and romaine lettuce --my allowable vegetables are quite
limited after all). I'm not allowed to have corn, carrots or celery for
veggies. Apples, peaches, and pears are out as fruit. No wheat, no
almonds and no hazelnuts.
Dinner is no longer what my family eats (last night was sausage and perogies,
hello?). While they ate their dinner, I had brown rice mixed with some
lean beef. It was a bad dinner really, but I thought I was getting more
support at home for my new diet and exercise program.
Now, the exercise program takes a lot out of me. My trainer really doesn't
want me out running (shin splints which are really painful) and spending more
time in the weight room. The weight room, less than 30 feet from my office
cannot be avoided, so I am using it. My "warm up" is 10 minutes
of rowing. I like using the rowing machine and had been using it on a
regular basis before, so my novice abilities sees me "warm up" with
close to 1500m of rowing... I then stretch for a few minutes and she was
impressed with the ease I took that up. I guess I remember it from high
school. I follow my stretching with stomach crunches a least favourite
activity from school, but I find them much easier using an exercise ball. From
that I move onto weight training which varies over the 3-day a week
program. I also have a 4th day that I do at home, consisting mainly of
power-walking and basic lifting. I use my 20-pound son and it makes him
giggle. After the weight training is a few minutes of pilates, followed by
30 minutes of cardiovascular 'cool down'. Warm up, cool down. The
cool down is either on a bike, on the stair machine or on the treadmill.
The bad news is my weight is actually 15 pounds heavier than I thought. My
goal was to lose 35 pounds by April, which is still doable, but being heavier
doesn't help attain my goal weight. Well, 35 pounds by April means I
already have goals for beyond April.
I've already lost a few pounds too.
This has been a strange week and this morning's breakfast topped it off.
I set fire to my breakfast. I was toasting some bread (new, healthier
bread for my diet and exercise plan) and reading the newspaper when I lost track
of time and failed to notice that the toaster hadn't popped.
"FWOOSH!"
'Fwoosh?' I thought to myself, 'what goes fwoosh at 5:30 in the morning?'
Yeah, that would be my toast getting stuck in the toaster.
so, with flames over a foot high and tickling the underside of the cupboards I
race across the kitchen to see how I can put it out. Water? No, it's
still plugged in. Cover it? Yes! But with what? I grab a tea towel,
but that doesn't do anything. I take off my housecoat and start beating it
over the toaster, but that doesn't work either. I reach and pull the plug
and go for a cup of water. By the time I get back, though, the fire is
out. Fortunately, the kitchen doors were shut so the smoke detector
doesn't go off and wake the rest of the household. At 5:30 in the morning,
I'd have to find a new place to live.
The toaster's fine. It was just the bread that burst into flames.
And boy do I feel stupid.
As I left this morning, I told my wife that the kitchen was 'kinda smoky'
because I 'burnt my breakfast'. She just said, 'oh' and went back to
sleep....
Geez, must be bored today if I was actually interested in doing this crap.