Just Another Day

So, yesterday I had a bad day. Nothing major, just a bad day.

I went home, took a nap, tidied and cleaned the kitchen, folded and put away clothes – even the ones all over my bedroom floor (yes, it happens a lot and I don’t care) – and generally made the place look clean. Then I took Rox for a walk, ate some Indian (because I deserved it) and sat on my couch.

And sat. And sat. And felt sorry for myself.

So there I was, on my couch, watching a chick-flick and eating ice cream straight out of the container (which I NEVER, EVER do, but tonight I felt like it), when my doorbell rings. Ok, it wasn’t really a doorbell…it was Roxy barking at someone at my door. Not just one someone…TWO someones! And they are wearing UNIFORMS!

I look at the girly film I’m watching, glance at the tub of ice cream and decide “f*ck it”.

Meanwhile, Roxy is going berserk barking, so I put her in the spare room and answer the door with the gallon of ice cream in my hand, spoon sticking out.

You guys, they were firefighters. FIREFIGHTERS! Checking to see if my smoke alarms worked! Except, I got the old guys. Apparently the two younger ones were doing the other side of the street. Figures.

So they come in, check my upstairs alarm (Check!), check my downstairs alarm (Check!), check my furnace (Check!), my hot water heater (Check!) and my electrical panel (Check Check Check!). And then they commented on how organized and tidy my basement was.

Let me repeat that: FIREFIGHTERS COMMENTED ON HOW TIDY MY BASEMENT WAS. He actually said: “Wow, this is a very organized and tidy basement! I’m impressed!”

This never happens. People do not get impressed by my basement. But it did happen, and all because my sister and pesky-brother-in-law pulled an Extreme Makeover Family Edition the last time they were up while I was at work.