Mrs. HM Is Having One Of THOSE Days

Friday was not pleasant for Mrs. HM. From the get-go, at 5:30 a.m., something was afoot. My knees were extra-painful. No idea why. I hadn't done anything strenuous the day before. Just the regular errand trip. Yet upon standing, I felt like gravity had doubled. Perhaps the barometric pressure was falling, due to the severe storms on Thursday night. Thank the Gummi Mary, it mostly skipped us, aside from some strong wind and a brief downpour. 30 miles north, there were TAKE COVER tornado warmings. Somewhere there was baseball-size hail.

Anyhoo... the double gravity did not help when I was preparing chicken pot pie for our supper. I boiled some boneless skinless chicken breasts for that purpose. Then decided I might as well use the other half of the bag. So did it twice. The cubed hash brown potatoes I had bought for this purpose turned out to have RED AND GREEN BELL PEPPERS in them! Farmer H despises peppers. So I stood at the cutting block, picking out peppers. I went back and forth through the kitchen, gathering my ingredients.

This process took me from 9:30 to 1:30! It's like I was in slow motion. I'd get one thing done, then have to go back and do another. I had two big bowls for combining the ingredients, because it's hard to stir it all in one bowl. Of course I had to dice up the chicken once it cooled. And grease the 9 x 13 glass pan, and a 9 x 9 glass pan, to freeze, for leftovers later.

Whew! Then I had several dishes to wash. That done, I could busy myself with writing out payments for the electric bills on the flip house and the Beauty Shop. Of course during all this, The Pony was texting me, and then Farmer H also deciding to text, while my hands were in the dishwater.

Off to town, where a rumpushole was parked BESIDE my rightful handicap space. That means he was in the driving lane! Preventing people from passing by the diesel pumps. I'm so fed-up with these idiot-parkers, I just pulled into the handicap space anyway. Too bad, so sad if he couldn't get his door open. He could easily pull up beside the empty space in front of me. No idea why he thought that was a parking space.

Once back at the Mansion, I had to put the store-bought pie crust on top of the chicken pot pie, and bake it for 35 minutes. While putting ice into a red Solo cup with my Shasta Diet Cola, I dropped an ice cube. Third one for the day! Then I had to find where it had skittered, to toss it into the sink.

The smoke alarm went off when I opened up the oven to put in the chicken pot pie. When I sat down at the table to do a little scratching while waiting 10 minutes to put foil over the crust, I hit my soda with my elbow, and soda and ice cascaded onto the table and floor. So I had to mop it up with two towels from the laundry room. At least it wasn't sticky like real soda. But it wasted a soda, and the best ice cubes that I had picked out for it. Then I had to wash and dry the two towels.

At least the chicken pot pie was delicious. We'll be eating it again on Saturday and Sunday. Me probably some more on Monday, when Farmer H is gone to the auction.

When turning to get out of my chair, I felt a sharp pain in my left rumpus-cheek. I must have tweaked it while picking up those errant ice cubes from under the cutting block. Or maybe while mopping up my spilled Shasta.

I'm hoping Saturday is better.