start off this bad way?
At three a.m. the sound of the air conditioner dripping down through the ceiling of my clothes closet roused me from my fitful slumber. Not sleeping well, too warm, and vaguely aware that the a/c was running and running.
Hauled myself out of bed to take everything out of the closet that could be damaged by the dripping, then tried to go back to sleep. Fretting about scheduling a service call, not to mention paying for another one made relaxing difficult. This is the second time this summer with this problem, and my entire heating and a/c system was replaced two years ago. Grrrrrr.
Leaving my warm, muggy condo at 7:30 after running out of cream cheese for my bagel, the front door key broke off in the lock. Guess it's a good thing the door was still unlocked at the moment of breaking, or I'd be a homeless person on this rainy evening. With my trusty needle-nose pliers I could extricate the key piece from the lock. Where O where was my spare Francis Scott condo Key?
O'er the ramparts I swore, and started primal screaming
I'm too broke for this to happen! I am a broke lock. I am a broke key. It's a low profile nursery rhyme from my childhood Mother Goose book. Could anything else go wrong this day?
Well, yes. An irritating whiny 1971 Bee Gees song much beloved by my college roommate could become trapped in my head:
And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend a this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.
© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder
At three a.m. the sound of the air conditioner dripping down through the ceiling of my clothes closet roused me from my fitful slumber. Not sleeping well, too warm, and vaguely aware that the a/c was running and running.
Hauled myself out of bed to take everything out of the closet that could be damaged by the dripping, then tried to go back to sleep. Fretting about scheduling a service call, not to mention paying for another one made relaxing difficult. This is the second time this summer with this problem, and my entire heating and a/c system was replaced two years ago. Grrrrrr.
Leaving my warm, muggy condo at 7:30 after running out of cream cheese for my bagel, the front door key broke off in the lock. Guess it's a good thing the door was still unlocked at the moment of breaking, or I'd be a homeless person on this rainy evening. With my trusty needle-nose pliers I could extricate the key piece from the lock. Where O where was my spare Francis Scott condo Key?
O'er the ramparts I swore, and started primal screaming
I'm too broke for this to happen! I am a broke lock. I am a broke key. It's a low profile nursery rhyme from my childhood Mother Goose book. Could anything else go wrong this day?
Well, yes. An irritating whiny 1971 Bee Gees song much beloved by my college roommate could become trapped in my head:
And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend a this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.
© 2008 Nancy L. Ruder
No comments:
Post a Comment