Today I am thankful for the realization that I'm insensitive.
Four to be exact.
When I take in homeless kids, they identify as girls (we will leave it at that).
For the past four years, every soul in this house has had the pronoun "she" (except most of the contractors).
Well.....
The contractors were supposed to rebuild all of the electrical in the house.
Ever since they put in the new box, I've had no shortage of problems.
I've had so many power surges, I've had to replace ALL of the appliances (every single one).
They keep breaking.
I had an electrician put in a surge protector because I can't afford to keep buying stoves and refrigerators.
Well, the side by side refrigerator broke again. This one is thirteen months old (one month outside of the warranty).
I just lost $500 worth of food and herbs. I really don't have another $1,000.
Worse, the refrigerator is where I store the remnants of rituals to freeze out my temper so I don't wreak havoc on the nasty ninnies who try to ruin my day. My temper is back (but that's another story for another day).
I went to Google and hired the first company that came up on the search engine.
A man and his teenage son came out the next day and fixed it within an hour for $200 (gave me the broken part, too).
I think the guy was either anxious or sick because he had to use the bathroom quite a bit.
Now....this bathroom is the girliest room on the planet.
I am not kidding.
The paint is pink.
It is decorated with Cupids. Cupids are on the wall. Cupids are on the decorations.
Cupids are almost everywhere. Where Cupid is lacking, there are roses.
There are candles and a plant in a flowery pot.
It's actually so girly that it is kind of gross.
Remember we're Pagan.
When I decorated it, I was trying to save my marriage by paying homage to the most dangerous archer in history.*
You read that right. I AM responsible for the pink bathroom from Hades.
Now, that only females have lived here over the past four years,
everything is girly; everything from the towels right down to the soap.
I was incredibly embarrassed when this good-looking 50-something guy started smelling like Cherry Blossom Flowers after several trips to the pink latrene.
Lesson noted.
I went to the store and bought some Zest.
Sigh.....
Even if I wanted to date, I'd probably run the poor guy off with all the feminine energy in the house.
I need some NRA plaques or something.
Maybe I'll go visit Cabela's for decoration inspiration.
Love ya,
S.
* The pink potty didn't save the marriage. Perhaps it helped chase my betrayer off (at least, I'd like to think something positive came from the eye-sore).