Post-its of wrath - The basement bossanova

 

These post-its are not real.  I love my husband.  Seriously.

Dear Fluffy Bear

Let me tell you about my day.

Because you are on a business trip, I decided to get all the washing done so the machines are free for your stuff when you get home.  I went down into the basement, carrying the basket of dirty clothes.

I tripped on the second to last step, luckily landing on a soft pile of smelly clothes which tipped out in front me.

But my toe was bleeding.

So I hobbled over to the first aid kit we keep down there for a band aid, and I hit my head on that low beam.

I found a band aid through my tears, and went over to pick up the spilled clothes and put them in the washing machine.  I poured the washing liquid into the measuring thingy and then put it in the machine and then, because I was crying, I wiped my eye.

I soon progressed from crying to howling.

This scared the dogs upstairs, who started barking.

The mailman who hates the dogs came then and yelled how much he hated us at our front door, throwing the mail on the front porch.

I tried to wash out my eye in the basin and hit the other side of my head on that big faucet we have in there.

I finally made it upstairs and made myself a liquid lunch of a glass of wine.  The nice wine you've been saving.  It was the only white wine in the house.  

Too bad.

OK, OK, none of this actually happened.

But it could have.

So change the basement light bulb!

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