Pinterest. Oh, Pinterest. How I love my Pinterest.
Now I’m going to assume that my girls reading this are aware of the fantastical wonder that is Pinterest. But some of my male readers might be unaware of this phenomena.
Okay, so if you’re sitting on the sofa or in bed and your significant other hasn’t looked up from her phone, tablet, etc for a few hours and looks completely relaxed/happy that’s Pinterest. If all of a sudden you’ve been the Guinea pig for trying out new recipes, do it yourself projects are suddenly in abundance, and you’re eating out of mason jars you’ve been Pinterest-ed. It’s where we women find outfits and shoes we can’t afford, realize it, and pin it on a board. Because we like to live the dream, Pinterest makes this possible for us. Even though it has ads now. Dreams don’t have ads. Grr But we choose to ignore this annoyance.
I found a new recipe on Pinterest for pot roast. But not just any pot roast, no no a crock pot pot roast. Pinterest just makes everything sound better. I copied and pasted the ingredients to my notes. I happily went off to the grocery store. The place where they have the audacity to hold my wine captive until I pay for it! Ugh, I know they are greedy and just don’t want to share. I happily pick up all of the ingredients and yes I bought a bottle of wine. It would have been cruel for me to leave it there held captive. I would have rescued the other bottles as well. But alas, their ransom (aka prices) are just too great for me. But I’m helping one bottle at a time.
That’s me, the wine savior.
I get back home. It was a long day at work. I pour myself a glass of wine. I then prep everything and put it in the refrigerator. Because I know that it’ll be worth it when I come home tomorrow. I’ll smell pot roast goodness when I walk in the door after work. I mean come on who doesn’t like the smell of pot roast.
Well, except for the vegans. I suppose that might not be their favorite smell. (If you’re a vegan reading this post no offense meant! Love you!)
Next morning, I’m running late. As usual… I run out the door with Teddy to give him a walk. I hit snooze a few too many times. I scramble to get dressed. It’s going to be a put makeup and accessories on in the car type of morning. Yep, mascara while driving. I know I just continue to make the roads a safer place. I run into the kitchen take out the prepped crockpot, turn it on and sprint out the door.
NO elixir of life this morning… Is their an emoji for caffeine deprivation? There needs to be one!
I arrive home after the day from hell happened. Bigwigs show up unannounced (oh joy), split coffee on the front of my blouse, had a fight with the printer and I lost, and then to top it all off when I’m leaving at five my co worker points out a fashion issue to me. I apparently have had a pink thong stuck to the bottom of my pencil skirt, right were the slit is. So I had been walking around ALL day like this.
I went to the bank, to lunch, a meeting, I was out of my office for half of the day AND she decides to tell me now. NOW! When it’s the end of the day and I’m going home. Lovely, gee thanks for the heads up. She then says to me no worries. We girls have to look out for each other.
There’s bright light at the end of the tunnel. My pot roast! I’m so looking forward to it. Teddy meets at the door. He’s jumping up and down giving me kisses, automatically making me feel happier. Teddy just doesn’t know how good he has it. He sleeps all day, free food, belly rubs, walks in the park, yep he’s living the high life.
I let Teddy out to play. I then notice that there is no pot roast smell wafting thru my place.
Hmmm…This is strange.
Generally when the crock pot is on the entire house smells of its goodness. I peek into the glass lid. The food looks raw. I feel it, it’s cold. I double check to make sure I turned it on. Yep, it’s on low heat.
So, I’m PISSED! I just bought this damn crock pot. FUCK! I then call the company that made the crock pot. It’s still under warranty, and the customer is always right. They better do something to cheer up this customer, because I know I’m being recorded for customer service training purposes. I’m going to be the irate CRAZY customer that the trainees will be hearing.
I WANT MY FUCKING POT ROAST!
I finally get a customer service representative on the phone. I explain the issue. Apparently this person’s first language isn’t English. So we are having SERIOUS communication issues. They put me on hold.
The stupid elevator music that is playing pisses me off even more. I swear I’d throw the fucking glass lid against the wall if I didn’t need it to send back for replacement. I’ve got the glass lid in my hand. No I didn’t throw it. Come on y’all I’m not that crazy. It was therapeutic, to hold it and pretend like I was.
As I put the glass lid down I take a peek at the wall, with the outlet… Closer inspection leads me to realize that the crock pot plug was NOT plugged in.
Morning check list: Clothed? Ah sufficiently. Keys? Just found them. Kiss Teddy goodbye? Check. Coffee cup? Empty. Sanity? Sanity? And we have a runner.