Union of the Snake

Last night my junk/tool drawer became stuck. The hammer inside the drawer had become imperfectly perfectly wedged under the lip, blocking the drawer. I couldn't see into it. There was maaayyyyybe a quarter of an inch gap between the outside of the drawer and just under the countertop. I legit started to panic. 

Me in the kitchen - "No no no no no no no no no."

Me still in the kitchen after using the pliers (the only tool OUTSIDE the junk/tool drawer) to disarticulate a small metal clip that I use on bags for dry goods thinking I could bend it over the lip and shove whatever was jamming up the works back in time - "Huh, who even knew I could... DAMMIT! Too short!"

Me sweating in my kitchen, stomach gurgling, full on internal dialogue of -  "Is this an allegory or a metaphor about having tools? Irony? The tools are in the drawer that is needing tools to be opened."

Panic increasing, Cassandra Mode rearing to take over ( will I or won't I poop my pants?)

While trying to stop the images of hordes of germy maintenance men invading my living space and sledgehammering my countertop to get to my drawer, I went into my bathroom to search for something, anything that might fit the bill as a tool.

Flash to me brandishing my plastic drain snake. No joke, this was a gift from my Bosom Friend. It was never intended to unblock a Junk Drawer and yet, here I am, telling you of its powers.  It was ideal for this job. I shoved that sucker up and over the lip of the drawer and once it found the edge of WHATEVER MALARKEY was going on inside there, it snaked the shit out of it.

I am not so secretly proud of myself for fixing this on my own. 

I have the saying from Poltergeist (altered to fit my situation) playing in my head "This drawer, is clear."

 

 

 

 Hot tip - get a plastic drain snake. They work on drains too.

 

Kitchen Nightmares?

Okay, latest dream update: I was walking in the hallway of this apartment building, and I was carrying this homemade holder for my plastic bags from the grocery store. This is a real thing, my Mom made it for me, she has one as well. It is made of two kitchen towels sown together lengthwise with elastic at the bottom so you are able to stuff it full of your plastic bags. In the dream, I was carrying mine around but it had split from being so stuffed, and for some unknown reason I never examined what was inside to make it bulge. 

So, here I am walking the hallways of an apartment building that is the apartment building to EVERYONE IN THE WORLD, and they are gathering in the hallways after getting off of work, or school, or doctor's appointments, or take your pick. People stare because I am on a floor that isn't mine and also I am keeping company with my plastic bag organizer that is carrying a mystery. 

I keep walking, and carrying my bag, the floors change and get fancier as I get higher in the apartment building. Next Brian Cranston (who is my estranged father) appears with his new family and wants to talk. He has a new young wife with two beautiful daughters and I tell him to go away. He is persistent, but I have an overstuffed homemade plastic bag holder to keep carrying so I tell him to get lost again.

The floors keep getting fancier and with that the light gets dimmer. Next my ex Neil shows up and tries to seduce me. I laugh at him and notice that the tear in my bag is getting bigger. Then I see at the end of the hall is a smaller door, kind of like the Willy Wonka door. A woman with two children sees me and stares at me, irritated that she has to deal with me. "If you have something broken give me your list and I will see to it." she says. I tell her that isn't why I am there. She shrugs her shoulders and leaves. I climb inside and see the biggest kitchen in the world.

I am half crawling and creeping in the ramparts of this magnificent place. I find my way down and see a cook in the center of the kitchen cutting up a tomato. His pants have fallen down so far his buttcrack is showing. He doesn't care and I am enraged. I tell him to pull up his pants. He ignores me. I race over and grab the knife, shove it in his face and order him to pull up his pants. I am disgusted that he is in charge of feeding everyone and he doesn't care that his ass is showing. 

He waddles off and I know he has called the "police" so I start tasting bits of the rich and lovely food before they come. There are other workers and they just watch me. My phone rings and it is my Mom. She asks where I am and when I tell her that our call might get interrupted when the authorities come and get me she says sweetly and unworried "Oh, okay."

Then I wake up.