I wish I was Mary Richards. Mary always has it together. Whether she's in her spotless little apartment where there's a place for everything and everything in its place, or at the office, where she's the hub because she can take a nothing day and suddenly make it all seem worthwhile. Everyone admires Mary for her effortless grace and poise. Even when she does something silly, she handles it with charm and aplomb. Mary is always a winner.
That so wasn't me this morning. Here I was in my little bathroom, messier than it should be since I have none of Mary's discipline. I'd just been staring into my magnifying mirror so I could tweeze away errant dark hairs on my chin. (Something I cannot imagine Mary doing.) I'd flossed carefully around the site of my tooth extraction and reached for the special prescription mouthwash I have to use. (If you can turn the world on with your smile, you don't need to have teeth pulled.) The cap separated from the bottle and somehow I was spraying chlorhexidine all over. Onto the wood toilet seat and all over the floor. I cannot get it off the seat, which is left icky sticky.* And it dissolved the bottom of the carton that holds my pee-pee pads (can you see Mary needing those?) so I had to throw them out. When I finally found the cap -- which I not only need to close the bottle, I need it to measure the dosage -- it was between the toilet and wall and covered in hair and cat fur.
It was expensive, dispiriting and, I suppose, with the right soundtrack it could be funny. But it wasn't Mary. Definitely not Mary.
*A new one is on its way from Wayfair.
Oh my....sounds like most days in my life! I think I'd rather be Lucy, anyway.
ReplyDeleteOh dear. None of that sounds fun.
ReplyDelete