Utopia in the Kitchen

What a beautiful and refreshing cold-ish day it is outside. Did I mention that I have wicked OCD? Ok, "wicked" might get me involved in being destroyed by those who seriously have it worse than I. Which means that they are CLEARLY more intelligent than I as OCD is supposed to be some sort of Flag for Geniusness....isn't it? Did I dig myself out yet?

My humanling is creating a movie. In doing so she needed a roasting pan (easy since I have cheap ones that I no longer roast in because roasting starches creates acrylamide...always looking for Utopia in the Kitchen), a bag of marshmallows (that item did not pass the Director's Cut so she will have to do without. Any child who claims that they "need" a whole bag of mini marshmallows for filming only must think that I was hit in the head by a 16 oz jar of sauce. Which has happened once. Imagine bringing Ragu with you to the ER for show and tell.) and paper plates.

Her movie is The Angry Vacuum Cleaner. I hope she doesn't use the new one. I just got it. Unless its ANGRY that it was only $20 at Walmart as opposed to the awful stinky vacuum cleaner that belongs to my ex's grandmother. I suppose I could have changed the bag (full with cat litter) instead of purchasing a new device. It just seemed easier somehow. My mind would be wild with what is floating out into the air and being inhaled by me while changing it. If I do it outside, the wind is sure to carry it straight into my lungs and I will be the host for something that I am cool doing without at this time. Oh sorry, the title is "Mean Evil Vacuum Cleaner" and it is now on right now and torturing the already clean floor.

I've had two Match.com Daddy-Os ask me how my weekend is going. That's an intial consultation. Would I walk into a job interview and be all "Sup Execs? How was lunch?"

I've noticed that the most paw pokings come on early Saturday evening and Sundays. MySpace is no better. Only there the guys don't have to cover up and be polite to attempt to get where any good porn worth its ragged cover would get them. Frequent Friend Requests usually show up with a tag of "You're hot.", "I like what I see", "Do you date 23 year olds?". To that last one, I sit on my hands, lest I reply with "I am currently divorcing a 24 year old". True story people.

Every thing that breathes in this house is waiting at the moment for the dishes to be done. I can't peel, cook, chop or anything until my Sani Cycle has safely landed my dishes into my Happy Utopia. I almost had a break down earlier when I noticed that the Sani Cycle button was NOT activated. How many washings did I subject us to? Time to buy more probiotics. We may run out after that.

Humanling is done hammering my utility bill with the On and Off switch of the Clean vacuum that I care enough about to rinse the dirt cup. I see clearly now that I really don't have that relationship with the old vacuum. It appears that there are no useful knives for martial art of good nutrition for another 15 minutes. Which means for 15 minutes I will hear the sounds of the Nematoad..."HungryHungryHungryHungryHungryHungryHungry..."

I must divert this activity with a nice bath for her. Right after I scrub the tub clean enough to drink milk out of.