1. Yes, that's right. I washed his cell phone. I checked the pockets. I thought I checked all the pockets. Then he reminded me that he has those little side pockets that are the perfect size to slide his cell phone down. Um. . .the cell phone screen is showing a lot of moisture right now. So if you need to call Dr. Phil, he won't be answering. You'd better just call me and I'll relay the message.
2. I thought I'd learned the hard way about checking his pockets already. But what I want to know now is why did the little portable disk drives with the Sunday School videos on it AND the Ipod Shuffle survive the wash, but the cell phone didn't? I've been thinking. . . maybe I should turn over the laundry job to him. It might be better that way.
3. Did I mention the fact that the previous cell phone he had just turned up missing one day? Never to be found again. I thought for sure it would show up in some dark dusty corner when we moved. But, alas, it didn't. So the cell phone I laundered was actually an older phone that teacher #16 gave us because we weren't going to pay $200 for a new phone before our contract ran out.
4. I'm still not going to pay $200 for a new phone. We will somehow hold out until August when our contract with Verizon wireless (can you hear me now?) is up for renewal. Hubs told me last night as I was mourning the death of his phone that a guy at work has one he can use.
5. Sign up now for Verizon Wireless and you can get this way cool cell phone with all the latest gadgets and gizmos for only $29.99. But wash your husband's cell phone in his shorts and be prepared to live on beans and rice for the next six months.
6. We're giving SAT tests this week at school. It couldn't have come at a better time to save my sanity than right now. No papers to grade. No homework to collect. A quiet classroom for 75% of my day. I can actually try to catch up on some things while they're filling in a million little bubbles.
7. We are 99.9% done with the apartment. They have quite an extensive list of things to clean before you move out, and I can guarantee you that the previous ten tenants didn't do half of what was on that list. We've worked our little fannies off in there, and I have no feeling left in my fingertips. Phil's been trying to find replacement drip pans for the stove, mostly because I didn't want to have to mess with cleaning them. But the stove is so stinking old that Fred Meyer and Wally World don't carry that kind. He's going to stop at KMart (my grandma loved that store, bless her heart I miss her) and see if they have some. If not, well, then, out comes the fumigating Easy Off Oven Spray one last time and we'll hope it's good enough. Then our walk through. Then our deposit refund. Then we're done.
8. I am super psyched about company coming on Thursday. Ms. Lang and I are going to have a splendid time. As my friend reminded me yesterday, she's coming to see me. Not to see the pictures hanging on the walls. Which is a good thing, because there still aren't any pictures on the walls. But I did unpack three boxes in my scrapbook room last night.
9. My dad came home from the hospital yesterday afternoon. He said this morning that he's still feeling pretty weak. Well, ya, Dad, I bet you are. When you've been bleeding internally and then they burn it to stop the bleeding, you're going to feel weak.
10. Medical marvels I have a hard time wrapping my mind around: Bleeding ulcer? We'll burn it to stop the bleeding. Gall bladder removal? Be prepared, you might still have gall stones or feel like you're having a gall bladder attack. HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?