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I Can Almost Smell the Fabric Softener Again

The countdown to new appliances begins, folks.

I got up this morning — at seven am, mind you; how do people live like this?! — and took a shower. Then, I put on mismatched socks, a shirt I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen before, and yet another pair of ‘hearts and smooches’ novelty silk boxers.

(Hey, my wife and I had a long engagement. We were all romantic and shit; what can I tell you?)

So now here I am, at ten after eight, waiting for the delivery folks to come and trade us a fabulous new washer and dryer for our crappy old ones. Well, for our crappy old ones and several hundred dollars, technically speaking, but I’m trying not to think about that right now. I just think of the money as a ‘player to be named later’.

Of course, I knew that these jokers weren’t coming at eight. Just like they won’t come at nine, or ten, or probably even eleven. I got an ‘eight-to-ten in the morning’ delivery window, so I’m expecting to see these guys at around twelve-thirty. Probably with only the washer or the dryer, so they have to make two round-trips, stop for doughnuts, and generally take up my whole Friday.

(Which is fine. What am I going to do instead — go to the office and sit in meetings all day? Please. At least here, I can drink my Friday morning beer out in the open, and I don’t have to hide it in a coffee mug to be all ‘PC’ and shit about it.)

Anyway, we’ll see how it goes. If there’s anything entertaining to be told about the ordeal — well, rest assured that I’ll dish for you. That’s what complicated early-morning deliveries are for, after all. And if not… well, then, I’ll probably take a damned nap when these guys are done. Setting the alarm for seven in the morning? Some of you people do that shit every day? Crazy.