I Hate January

January seems to go on and on, doesn't it? It's cold and snowy and there are no fun holidays to look forward to. No presents to exchange, no reason to eat yummy holiday food, nothing to do but wait for the month to drag to an end. This morning was one of those January mornings that makes me wish I lived somewhere warm. Anywhere but here.

My roof leaks every year and, because I can't yet afford a new roof, we try creative ways to prevent the water from running into my living room. This year Dad and Big Brother installed the heat tapes that run along the eaves of the house.

"There," thought I, "Now my roof won't leak!"

Wrong.

Yesterday morning I noticed the water coming in so I trotted outside in my bathrobe and plugged the tapes in. A sight that would have amused the neighbors had they been outside to witness it. By the time I left for work the eaves were dripping merrily.

This morning, I jumped out of bed, grabbed the dog and trotted to the front door to let him out. I swung the door open...

CLUNK

It opened only an crack. The water that the tapes had melted made a small mountain of ice in front of my screen door and I was trapped inside with a dog who had to pee.

"Okay Mary. Don't panic now. This can be fixed."

I pushed the door harder. It didn't budge. By this time, the dog is looking for somewhere inside to pee. I push and pull, cuss and call curses down on the ice, the door, my house and the dog's teaspoon sized bladder. Still, the door won't budge. Finally, I give a mighty heave and the ice breaks enough for the door to open 4 inches. I run into the kitchen to grab the dog and turn around only to find that there are strange smudges all over my kitchen floor.

Dog poop. I'd stepped in dog poop. At this point I am very loudly cursing the ice, the door, my house and my dog's seemingly faulty waste management system. I get him outside and again the door sticks. Open this time. I decide this is a really good time for me to take a shower.

By the time I'd finished my shower, I was no longer hating everything and everyone and was able to figure some things out. I found a small hammer and chipped enough of the ice to open and close the door. Dad came over and spread salt over the step. I went to work and bought a big bag of rock salt on my way home. I'll take care of that ice...

Now, to take care of the dog...

Llamawhat?

Llamaduck. In case you've forgotten (or don't feel like going back to the first post), here's a reminder. Again, blame Ysabet-

This is a Llamaduck. It's a long story that long ago lost its plot as well as most of its main characters. Let's just say this song makes me laugh and I usually end up singing it for a week after I hear it. It brings back fond memories.

So anyhoo- It's Sunday night and I'm listening as the boys build a virtual theme park. The roller coasters they build have names like, Puke-a-rama, Puke-a-tron, and The Mean Green Puking Machine. Are you beginning to pick up on a pattern here? They try to build the things with a motion sickness rating of 95% or higher. Are all adolescent boys obsessed with bodily functions? Or am I worried for good reason?

I've been working at the bank for 14 months now and I am finally beginning to settle in, though I continue to be insecure about the job I am doing. I hate to answer questions about interest rates and the meaning of 'Pending Transactions'. I want a job that allows me to sit in a sunny, warm room, read books and then discuss them. My dream job? Lit Professor. That or lead tours around here. Until that day, I guess Bank Teller will have to do. The health insurance benefits are pretty good, at least.