Catch a Fish
It's only 11:26am and it's already one of those days. Plotnik needs to go catch a fish. But he's never caught a fish. How do you catch a fish, anyway?
Plotnik needs to drive out to the Marysville Peach Festival this weekend. But he has to review plays Friday and Saturday nights so how could he do that? Sunday?
Plotnik needs to stop trying to be rational with irrational people. It doesn't work, children, it doesn't work. You can't out-crazy them and they will not hear you if you try anything approaching common sense. All you can do is open the door and walk through it. Adiós, loco.
It's like the financial meltdown. You put a lot in, and then it was gone. Gone! But you didn't die, so you didn't lose. You can earn it again, write it again, live it again.
Plotnik needs to realize it's funny, not tragic, that his mom would curse out the plumber who came to install the safety bar in her shower. "I don't need this, who told you I needed this, who called you anyway?" He he he he, that IS funny, actually, if you're not the plumber.
posted by DAK @ 11:25 AM
3 Comments:
Did the plumber fix the toilet in the guest bathroom as well?
Keeping busy is one thing - you are burning the candle at both ends, the middle, and are now trying to just plain get the whole thing going at once.
Fishing is a lot more fun if you don't bother with bait and avoid the hassle of actually catching something.
What is it about aging mothers and safety bars in the tub? Mine was vehemently against them and made that clear to everyone within earshot. Bless the plumber who sweetly ignored her and did a fine job.
"I suppose that'll be handy for the next people who live here," was her sole response to his work.
And I did laugh—'cause what else are ya gonna do?
fishing? Jews don't fish, do they?
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