Thursday, Jun. 03, 2004
Ah, a vacation at last!
No, I haven't taken one, but I'm sincerely thinking about it. I am OWED some time off, and thinking it might be worth it to go for it while I can. I imagine myself sitting at home in air-conditioned comfort, finally getting around to writing some stuff for publication, maybe go to the lake and spend a day fishing, or go on a scenic drive to collect some photographs.
Of course in reality I'd probably stay home and clean my room, sew, and watch television for the novelty value. (I am not a snob when I say I don't watch much TV - I simply don't have time. I dream of being a couch potato!) A scenic drive or day at the lake would result in sun exposure adequate to send me to the local burn unit, and writing, while admirable in purpose, is somewhat what I'd be trying to escape.
But I am in dire need of some recreation, so that I don't end up going completely postal on Boss. And there's another issue. 00's boyfriend is still living there and still unemployed. Even 00 is getting irritated with the latter detail nowadays. She's been supporting him for several months and is beginning to appreciate my eyebrow-raised warnings against being taken for all she's worth.
However, the topic of the day is imprisonment by bathroom.
Yes, you read right. 00 got locked in the bathroom this morning, and was pounding wildly and screaming at the top of her lungs, begging for release, but to no avail. Now then, I am not talking about just someone locking her in - it's a door that simply refused to open no matter what she did.
I didn't hear her screams, only the ongoing pounding. I thought she was fighting with Pipeboy and it was doors slamming. Meanwhile Pipeboy was out on the front porch smoking (only cigarettes - I think I put the fear of God into him with my diatribe on other things. At least, that was my intent.) Since I assumed that they were fighting, I stayed out of it other than the snickers behind my hand, thinking that fate was intervening on my behalf. When 00 gets pissed, best get out of her way.
By the time we figured out what had really happened, 00 was literally in tears, though once we finally got her extracted, she was laughing along with the rest of us.
Now mind you, this is becoming a habit, one that follows us from place to place. Just days before I moved from the old apartment, Pipeboy got stuck in the bathroom there and the landlord had to literally come in and break the door down to get him out.
It's happened from the time I was a child - someone, at one time or another, got stuck with a faulty doorknob or broken hinge/lock that prevented them from escaping not-so-quality time alone with themselves, in a room which, while essential, is nonetheless not generally a favorite recreational facility. I don't care whether it was a house or apartment, if we lived there, sooner or later the bathroom door shut up tighter than a political candidate being forced to tell the truth.
In this case, fortunately, we got 00 out after less than an hour, and Pipeboy took the doorknob apart, hopefully getting it repaired in the process.
However, there are two bathrooms in this place. There's still one more door with a hidden agenda. It's out to get me, you know. Bathroom doors always are.
Before - After
In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )