When my parents died in 2004, I took their 7-year-old Kenmore washer and dryer — back when Kenmore meant quality. Should you purchase their appliances around age 70, chances were you’d die before those did. Turns out that washer and dryer lasted 19 years before biting the dust…kicking the bucket…going kaput.
So last September I bought a Whirlpool washer and dryer since they received rave reviews. Fast forward to last week when I put a load of towels in my still-sparkling-clean and shiny dryer, hit the appropriate buttons, tapped START and waited for the magic to begin. Nothing happened.
Hum. Maybe I did something wrong. So I repeated the process. Still nothing. Now don’t get me wrong; all the buttons were lit up, teasing me into thinking my wet towels were about to become extraordinarily dry and fluffy. And to think I fell for it…
I almost killed my sister on my birthday.
Now don’t get me wrong; I realize it’s shocking to lead with that, especially since this is supposed to be a humor blog and death isn’t funny. Spoiler alert: there will be a happy ending. Sort of.
It started 3 days before my birthday when I called Vicki to see whether her doctor contacted her with test results from the previous week. At 64, she’s lived most of her life with debilitating obsessive-compulsive disorder, is developmentally and physically disabled and now has a muscle condition forcing her to use a walker. Life has not been particularly kind to Vicki.
Me, brother Bill and Vicki at Tahoe circa 1960
Vicki sleeps late and doesn’t have a cell phone or computer. I can only contact her via her home phone. She often can’t reach it before it goes to voicemail so I leave a message and hope she calls me back. But this time she didn’t. I figured she’s probably out getting dinner and will call me later. But no. Continue reading
This post was written a few years back, so long ago you know you don’t remember it, do you? That’s okay. My memory sucks too. So this will be just like new to you (and me!).
While my three friends and I huddled on the cold steel floor of the single engine Cessna, I struggled to remember what possessed me to want to hurl myself from an airborne metal tube.
Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not crazy. At least I think I’m not. But still, I seriously questioned my sanity while checking my parachute pack for the tenth time. My curiosity was not based on its technical construction but simply to confirm that it was still on my back. Continue reading
I have a problem. If you looked inside my closet, it would appear I love to shop. REALLY love to shop.
Just one of 3 closets
But recently I discovered something I should have known all along: It’s not shopping that’s the problem; it’s rarely purging what I buy. For instance, some of my clothing was popular during the Reagan era. I mean, really…who keeps hip-huggers that long?
Now don’t get me wrong. My apparent reluctance to discard clothing I’d forgotten I even owned came as a surprise to me. Suddenly my closets seemed awfully small. This became evident when it took nearly all my strength to push dozens of occupied hangers aside in search of a particular item. That’s when I discovered a bridesmaid dress from a friend’s 1981 wedding. And no, that’s not a typo. I’m talking 1981.
Hello. My name is Janet and I have a problem letting go. Continue reading
It was a crazy busy week. What can I say? Therefore, here’s a post from many moons ago…so long ago I barely remember writing it. That means you won’t remember having read it. So here’s my old new post. Or is it my new old post?…
I think by now we’ve established I have a poor memory. But another area in which I’m sorely lacking is my attention span. Unfortunately, I can’t blame this one on menopause, as I’ve been “skippy” since high school. This is evident by the fact that my friends chose for me a personalized license plate with that name.
So when you put those two deficiencies together, it’s not pretty. I, like many, will walk into a room and forget why I’m there. But instead of getting upset, I get distracted. Continue reading