MC PeePants

Jan 25, 2010 by

Wow.  I feel like I’m having a word vomit moment.  Does that happen to anyone else?  You know, when you’ve said the same thing 200 million times, but a situation deems it necessary to up the total to 200 million and 1?  Word vomit.  It just keeps coming up and you can’t stop it. 

I’m hoping everyone reading this is as sick of hearing about it as I am of blogging about it.  It being my “work status.”  If you follow me on facebook, you know that my NY resolution is to cease caring about people who judge my decision to quit the Journal-Star.  I joked that although I normally hate people who use this “reasoning,”  I’m going to guess that most of the haters are just jealous.  Frankly, who wouldn’t be jealous?  Who would get an opportunity like this and say, “Gee thanks but no thanks.  I think it sounds like a great idea in theory, but I really enjoyed going to 4 yrs of college, busting my ass, graduating with honors and being underpaid, underappreciated and having nothing to aspire to.  Oh, and I really enjoy the 2 hour commute each day too.”  Yeah, that would be NO ONE. 

So my theory is that the haters are nothing more than Jealous Jessies.  That must mean I’m pretty freaking AWESOME and have a totally RAD life.  It’s kind of sad, really.  Because what the JJs are actually jealous of are THINGS.  We have been very fortunate and we do have some nice things.  But it’s pretty UNfortunate that no one seems to focus on what’s actually important, like the relationship my husband and I have INSIDE the nice house.  Ok, stepping down from the soapbox.

I honestly wish that all the JJs could have seen just how awesome and totally rad my life really is, up close and personally, this past Friday night.  Perhaps after witnessing Friday night’s events, the JJs might just change their JJ tune. 

Friday night, a friend of a friend was in town and wanted to see the “sights” of Goofy Ridge.  Talk about a way to start the evening!  We headed to the Mallard Club and ended up at the Hialeah.  Adam pre-partied and continued his binge throughout the night.  A friend even pointed out that it might be a good idea to lock the door to the laundry room, judging by Adam’s state, especially after the infamous “Washing Machine Incident of ’09.” 

I was woken up at 2:30 AM to Adam shuffling down the hall.  The mental alarm bells went off, as this is how the washing machine incident began.  I hesitated, didn’t bother to get up, but called out to ask what he was doing.  I can’t recall his response, but whatever it was apparently merited me dragging my fat ass out of bed and checking out the situation. 

Let me set the scene.  I am still half asleep.  My eyes are partially crusted shut because I fell asleep in my mascara.  I have no contacts in, and am therefore basically blind…so the fact that the house is pitch black only complicates matters.  Now.  The hallway outside of our room is mostly tiled, but immediately outside our door is still carpeted.  This is important.

I begin my journey down the hall, stumbling all over the place (since I can’t see).   By the time I got both my feet onto the tiled portion of the hallway (approx. 3 ft. from the door), I started screaming.  I was standing in a puddle.  I turned to run towards the light switch and find out what the F I was standing in…and slid down the tile, nearly spraining my ankle.  I’ll reserve the ensuing string of 4-letter words for another time.  I flipped the switch, and realized the puddle was only on the tile (whew!) but stretched past the laundry room, around the corner (nearly 2.5 ft.).  And it was a puddle of piss.  So basically what had to happen is Adam got to the end of the carpet, whipped it out and peed all over the floor.  I don’t know how one bladder could hold that much liquid but, then again, I’m no expert.  Even more special, past the piss pond, there are wet footprints going down the hall towards the half-bath.  How he could still have to pee is beyond me…but he did.  2 more times.  All over the bathroom floor.  By the time he was done, I was on my hands and knees cleaning up the pee pond.  He appeared out of nowhere and told me I was being an asshole because I was cleaning it up and he could do a better job.  Believe me, I welcomed that proposal, though I highly doubted its merit.  He grabs ONE paper towel, smears the pee all over the floor, including the areas it (miraculously) had not already hit.  He was therefore banned from cleanup duty and proceeded into the bedroom and transformed his nose and mouth into a lawnmower.  Nothing like being woken up to piss all over the floor, being called an asshole for cleaning it up, and then trying to go to sleep with a chain saw in your ear. 

You know how sometimes when you’re really pissed, you get all these crazy ideas to try and fix the situation?  Here are the ideas I imagined, then eliminated:
-Rubber Sheets
-Locking him in the room

As I said, all ideas were shoved aside.  Murder would only cause me more problems, and I don’t look good in orange.  Ideas 2-4 all end up with me getting peed ON.

Now, in Adam’s defense, he did get out the Swiffer Wet Jet and clean up all the urine residue on Saturday morning.  After I explained Piss Lake. 

So to all those Jealous Jessies out there…maybe you should focus on making your own life better instead of being jealous of mine.  Because clearly Ridge Living is totally AWESOME and RAD.  And if you’re still not convinced, I know a yellow lake you can visit…

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