Sunday, December 4, 2016

I Took The Good, I Took The Bad, I Took Them Both And Then I Had...Almost Even Steven

That's the facts of life, I guess. We may lose, and we may win, but we will never be here again. My day was pretty balanced overall. It didn't start off all that well.

I overslept and rolled out of bed at 10:00. Farmer H was at Not-So-Urgent Care. That's a story for another day, maybe even another place. Let the record show that he was home within three hours, waiting to receive guests from his workplace in order to give them a Shackytown tour. I washed up some dishes and wrote out a check for just over five dollars to pay taxes on land that Farmer H the land baron bought on the courthouse steps many years ago. There's another story we may or may not get to one of these days.

Because the dead mouse smelling post office has let me down too many times lately, I drove that tax payment to the main branch, where I just mailed all the other tax bills yesterday. I thought of stopping by The Devil's Playground to pick up bananas for Farmer H (he eats one a day) and maybe some deli chicken (Farmer H will be gone to his company Christmas dinner tonight). I vetoed that idea, because I like gas station chicken better. I got the bananas at Save A Lot.

Somebody was in my rightful parking lot at the gas station chicken store, so I parked around by the air hose. SUE ME, anybody needing air! It was pouring rain, and I didn't feel like parking way over to the side by the canal that runs between the GSCS and Farmer H's pharmacy. Once I climbed out of T-Hoe, I knew something was amiss. I did not detect the aroma of delicious fried fowl! My worst fears were confirmed when I entered the door.


Yes, it was bereft of my tasty planned lupper (too late for lunch, too early for supper). The stainless steel tubs gleamed with broken promises. I ran my 44 oz Diet Coke and bellied up to the pay counter. With no chicken available, I put my funds into two scratch-off tickets. Which were losers, I might add. I had already been to Orb K to cash in some winners and trade them for more tickets. I should have let well enough alone.

Out of 12 tickets, I had ONE winner. ONE! By the odds, I should have had at least three winners, maybe four. The only good news is that my ONE ticket was a $50 winner. So cash-wise, I was ahead. If you consider the value of the winners cashed in, I was only out $10. I will financially survive to play again.

The biggest loser was my appetite, which had to settle for a Hardee's chicken bowl. Which today was only half full, so less so that the tiny dollop of sour cream did not even brush the clear plastic lid as it usually does.

But Farmer H is off to his dinner, and I have a few hours of peace without his hacking. Then again, he says he's coming back home tomorrow morning after giving work orders, to spend the day in the Mansion, because he'll be sick. He plans to go back to bed and sleep all day.

Almost Even Steven. B-B-B Baby, I'll take what I can get!


Sioux said...

Stuck all day with a sick man?

Better you than me...

fishducky said...

No gas station chicken? How did you survive?

Hillbilly Mom said...

I cried because I was stuck all day with a sick man, and then I looked in the mirror and saw a woman who would be stuck THE NEXT DAY WITH A SICK MAN!


I only hung on by the thin flaky coating of a scratch-off $50 winner! Otherwise, my afternoon would have been dismal. Fueled by the slim pickin's of that Hardee's chicken bowl, I went out to walk and was treated like a much-loved VIP by Puppy Jack. So that helped, even though the temperature was 38 degrees.

Hillbilly Mom said...

What's up, Madam, with your total obliviousness to my THREE song references? You're slippin'!

Or maybe you just have actual work and worthwhile things to do, rather than wade through my lesser blog with a fine-toothed comb...