Saturday, November 3, 2007


Written Saturday, posted today. (Because stale bread makes better French toast.)

To sleep, perchance ... to sleep.

You'll never, ever hear me bragging that I only need five hours of sleep, as though this somehow made me more virtuous than the person who needs six, seven, eight or nine. I can get by on five hours (and countless times less, like you, dear reader), but then I am crabby. Very crabby. It is only if I act on this clinically well-documented predisposition to be "crabby" from sleep deprivation that I am willing to admit that, in terms of ethical parlance, I stand on lower, moral high ground than my neighbor. (That must be why I like high heels so much.)

My daughter has piano lessons this morning, but she had a sleepover last night and needs to be picked up at 8:30, meaning I need at least an hour to become "caffeinated" and therefore functional. Her piano lessons aren't until 10:30, but she needs to primp. Why she needs to look like she's going to the prom to see Mrs. Dinglehoffer to play Finiculi Finicula, I've no idea. Wait, I do. She's a teenager. I'm just being rhetorically obtuse. Writers love doing that. Isn't that annoying?

(Ms. Mon to Ms. Mon: You said you don't write posts like this. You make fun of posts like this. I sincerely hope you are going to taunt yourself sufficiently when this post is over. No. Don't write that. You're going to write about the laundry? What's happened to you? Please, for the love of all that is sacrilege, stop now! Do I HAVE TO REMIND YOU ABOUT THAT B+, MS. MON? You know -- the B+ you received in that post-graduate class at Duquesne when you wrote some drivel about your theories on where all the missing socks go? )

So as I was saying, before Ms. Mon interrupted (it would have been Vivian, her copyreader, but alas, she is not a member of the society): I have so much laundry to catch up on since my dryer was broken for several days. It was just the heating element, and so, I feel good that it cost only $150 to repair, and it wasn't another case of "it's cheaper to replace it than to fix," as so many things are these days. Without digressing into an invective of my conspiracy theories (SEE: "THEY MAKE THEM THAT WAY ON PURPOSE BECAUSE MY GRANDMOTHER STILL HAS THE SAME DAMN TV SHE HAD 40 YEARS AGO AND IT WORKS JUST FINE"), suffice it to say I'm rather perturbed that this has become more the rule than the exception. (Monday update: Yes, I read the the story about should you fix or toss your iPod ... but remember, it's still Saturday here on this post. So forget I just wrote that.)

I notice there are a lot of booster and lobbying sites for green this and green that, and that's all fine and dandy, but I'm one of those people who tries to practice that adage, "be the change you want to see in the world." (Stop throwing corn at me, Halloween's over.) In the summer I actually do put laundry outside to dry once in a while, but it's just not practical time-wise for me. I have a line in my basement laundry room, but the clothes take forever to dry, since that's the coldest part of the house. And again, a time issue.

So I ask myself, do I have the most energy efficient dryer I can? I'm not sure. I have meetings with my kids, and during the latest one -- prompted by the incident now known as "MADDIE BROKE THE DRYER" -- I tell my son to stop underloading (he is notorious for putting a "special jersey" in that needs to be fluffed) because it wastes electricity, and laundry has a symbiotic relationship with other laundry, and we don't want it getting lonely or anything because that's when the clothes start turning on us, as in the white clothes turning red, or blue, usually .... and then I tell my daughter that she can't overload, because the dryer can only hold so much Abercrombie & Fitch (yes, we had that talk -- you know, about the messages on the shirts -- and it was indeed heated, but we came to a compromise), and we need it to last as long as possible (it's two years old). My seven-year-old, thankfully, has no interest in doing anything but dirtying clothes. Nothing warms my heart more than a mud-caked seven-year-old.

I'm not a big fan of all the chemical products available to wash laundry, either. Truly -- how many products do you need for clean clothes? I also think of the impact all of these chemicals have on the enviroment. Speaking of which, I absolutely detest air fresheners and my gut tells me they're bad for our bodies. (What, your gut doesn't talk?)

The thing about air fresheners is, they smell like air fresheners. They don't smell like "dewey mornings." I have tried the "oil" plug-in type fresheners (I have three kids and a dog, so go figure), but they make my throat scratchy and honestly, if the warning says they'll outright kill your parakeet* ... what are they doing to us?

I think air fresheners are nothing but toxins in pretty packages and I've had it with them. I know someone who has one of those toilet paper holders that "releases" a fresh scent every time you unroll the t.p. ... and I just choke. Just call me the bathroom asthmatic.

Gladé me ass. (Forgive the Irish pirate potty talk.)

And speaking of near asthmastic incidents, why I was just in a class this weekend and for some reason, the chalk dust was really bothering me. I usually don't sit that close to the board though, so maybe that's why. I always have to sit on the end seat near the door when I'm in a classroom, because I have claustrophobia. Or maybe it's just classtrophobia. Classtroclaustrophobia? Possible. I never rule anything out.

* Not that I ever killed a parakeet this way, mind you. He resuscitated quite nicely.

Ahh .... so that's what it's like to write "one of those posts."


  1. and a damn fine post it is, bravo!

  2. By the way, that photo of me is just temporary, and is posted tongue-in-cheek. I'm waiting for Bram to see it. I figure, if he can post in his bathrobe, I can post in my PJs. Unretouched camera phone shot, of course. :-)