Three of these things Belong Together

NOTE: Whether you have already read this post or not, make sure you go read this post on Melonie's site to find out how this day ended...

Allright... I might be dating myself as a child of the seventies... but I'm asking my readership to raise their hand (cause I really CAN see you doing it) if you recall the segment on the childrens' show Sesame Street where they would sing:

Three of these things belong together..
Three of these things are kind of the same.
But ONE of these things is is going his/her own way--
Now it's time to play our game-- it's time to play our game!!!!

For background purposes, I'll share the fact that I regularly take on "house-sitting" jobs to supplement my paltry income, and that for the past four days I have been taking care of two houses simultaneously. One of the two jobs was coming to a close this morning, as the homeowner was flying home today, so I was looking forward to only having to take care of the remaining house tonight. My first mistake was letting my guard down...

The alarm went off at 6:15 (allowing for the prerequisite 2 rounds of alarm-tag before rising at 6:30), and I was delighted to find that I actually felt well-rested and I wasn't hunched into a question-mark stance by back pain (which I am most mornings, especially at this home because this particular mattress was produced by Satan Posturepedic). I toddled into the bathroom to begin my morning ablutions, smiling smugly at my ferocious case of bed-head, and looking forward to a first cup of coffee. Things progressed normally-- that is, until I attempted to flush the commode. My second mistake was assuming that the plumbing would respond in a predictable manner. But no... Within seconds my bare feet were being doused with cold toity water, punctuated by blobs of soggy paper. F**K!!!!! Once I'd turned off the waterline to stop the flood, I grabbed four fluffy towels (which were laying conveniently nearby), and quickly mopped up the flotsam and jetsam. I wrapped the sodden cloths in a fifth towel, finished throwing yesterday's clothes back on, and went to wake the homeowner's teenage son on schedule at 6:45. Then I threw the towels (white, of course) in the washer as I headed out the door, now knowing that I would have to stop back at lunch time to throw them in the dryer so the homeowner wouldn't be to-o-o-o-o annoyed.

THEN, I jumped in my car to run off to the other house-sitting job. Mistake number three was forgetting that, with the exception of dusk, the ONE OTHER TIME that North American white-tailed deer are most likely to be dogding across rural roadways is approximately 7AM. No, I didn't actually hit any of the four-legged critters, but I narrowly missed hitting 6-7 of them as they sprinted across the road as I came around a blind turn. Double F**K!!!! The visit to house #2 was then uneventful, so I jumped back in my buggy and headed toward home.

Now needing a diaper change and frantic for the longed for coffee, I decided to pull into Hardees to treat myself to a sausage-egg biscuit & coffee. Mistake number four. This also seemed to be a simple act, except that I got so excited after the pimply 17-year-old working the drive thru handed me my coffee that I threw the car in gear and pulled away, only to hear him yelling, "Hey! WAIT!!!" I then had to pull over and do the walk of shame back to the restaurant for my food order. Did I mention it was also pouring down rain at the time?

So now I have rain-sodden bed-head & yesterdays remaining eye-makeup flowing from my eyes, soiled knickers from the deer attack, and not a drop of java in me yet. I got back in my car and pulled slo-w-w-w-wly out of the lot onto the roadway. The rest of the 2+ mile drive home was uneventful, so I thought I'd had my quota of "bad things come in threes" and was safe.
Mistake #five.

I slogged in the back door and slung my soggy jacket over a chair. Then, after looking at the clock and deciding to postpone eating, I hustled upstairs to get ready to shower. I had just turned on the bathroom faucet for my cat to get his ritual bathtime drink when I heard an ominous "Plop!" land nearby. I closed my eyes, took several cautious sips of my ass-flavored fast food coffee, then opened my eyes to see if I could find the source of the plopping noise. A quick glance at my bathroom ceiling informed me that I had a leak.

Flooded toilet... deer gone wild... fast-food brain fart... leaking ceiling. Which of these things does not belong? It's hard to make up my mind.

(REMINDER: Go read this post at Melonie's sight for "the REST of the story")