12-19-06

As I drive my laundry over to my sister’s house again, I now believe I have really angered the appliance “god” (my washer has broken again). In my mind I have come to realize that they (the “god” and his panel of dudes) are slowly trying to break me. On the panel are Henry, Tommy, and Paul. The appliance “god” is named Jimmy Conway (I’m sure I’ve heard those names before, I’ll just chalk it up to a vivid imagination). Now that I have that part worked out in my mind I just have to figure out what I’ve done. My first thought is that my husband has done something (they always do something wrong) but then I believe they would attack his blackberry, laptop, various cell phones, the toilet, and I could just be left out of this mess. But they aren’t so it’s back to me, hitting me where it hurts over and over. There must be some sort of patron saint of household necessities to protect me, I could hang it over my front door, bury it in the backyard, spread it on my morning toast… I’ll do whatever! Satan has entered my domain and is fiddling with my machinery … that sounds a little off... an unscrupulous act has brought woe in my abode… no odd still…Maybe if I just make a little Italian gravy and sacrifice my George Foreman grill?