(And why my luck may be better than the Kennedys)
So, I finally got off my duff and took the dry cleaning to the cleaners Saturday. Once it fits into our fairly sizeable hamper and then gathers dust, it’s probably time to act. I felt fabulous finally getting that done until….
later that night Gene needed nice clothes to wear to dinner (The Melting Pot for V-Day, yum and no carbs at all). Umm, they’re at the cleaners. All of them (4 shirts, 3 pairs of pants – hey, he works from home!). Oh, fuckity. He finally decided to wear his least obtrusive hanging around the house pants and all was better.
But then…Sunday I was folding laundry and realized that he had a meeting at work on Tuesday. With his boss. Who would probably not appreciate his employee wearing shorts and a Corona beer t-shirt. And the cleaning wasn’t going to be ready until Wednesday. Oh, fuckity fuck fuck fuuuck. Party people, I momentarily considered breaking into the dry cleaners to see if perhaps the stuff hadn’t left yet (why else wouldn’t it be ready until Wednesday??). Fortunately I decided a life of crime wasn’t worth it. And visited the cleaners yesterday to beg for my stuff early. The lady said I could have it at 7 AM today.
So guess where I’ve already been today? Yep, 7:05 saw me running through the door. And the dry cleaning was there. I may live to see another day. (If I had failed at this, I was pretty sure I was going to have to assume a new identity and move to Mexico).
Woot!
Lesson learned: Take your dry cleaning in more frequently. Or to the “In by 9, out by 6” place. They charge more, but it’s worth it.
Anyway, more later. This whole dry cleaning screw up has made me think about the big picture (yes, really) so I have another post in me, but now I need to get myself ready to go.