I wanted to roast a chicken. I do it all the time. But did you ever have one of those days when you're all thumbs?
It began with trying to throw out my laundry detergent bottle. I tossed it but didn't let go and promptly threw myself into the garage. Good one. No Olympic discus hopes here. Then I went downstairs to get something out of the freezer and missed the thirteenth step. I did that bounce with one leg MUCH too high, clamped my teeth together with a loud "Cuk!" and dis-aligned some of my vertebrae. Niiiice. The hairdryer, not to be outdone, decided to suck up my sock that was lying on the edge of the tub while I was upside down and "goin ta town." There was this change in its pitch and a whine that would have made Mariah Carey proud. (I thought it was her on the radio at first to be honest with you:"EEeeeeeeeEEEEEEE") But the smell of smoke and red glow from the motor gave me a fresh clue. Fabulous!
Lunch did not fare well either. I burned my container in the microwave so as of today, I'm pretty sure I've consumed my weekly dose of toxic polymers. Not to be completely destroyed by my own ineptitude, I thought "I'll just have a little piece of candy and treat myself." It was a peanut butter kiss. Yummy. I unwrapped it and popped it in there thinking "This is nice." But I missed some of the foil. How do I know? I bit down on the ONE side of my mouth with two fillings right above/below each other. I thought I got a radio station from that charge. It made my eyes water.
Enough! I headed home to work out my frustrations on the damn elliptical machine. Yes, you must include the word "damn"...stupid doesn't cut it. While panting away, I misstepped and the "wheel thingie" kept rotating and whacked my shin. I was at a resistance of eight and a speed of 2.0. It felt like an anvil in a wagon had done a drive by with a grenade launcher. Damn elliptical.
So I trudged on up to stuff the chicken. I should have ordered out. The friggin bird was still frozen enough not to give up the "goodie bag" in the middle. I had to run hot water in it and jiggle it around to break it loose. Now that I'm making poultry porn in my sink and aggravated to the brink of tears I yanked the bag. It ripped flipping chicken guts into the air and at the dog. I let go of the bird and dove for the parts slapping my floor. The bird rolled off the counter and landed on her back. It looked as though she were taking a nap since her little wings were already tucked behind her head or what was left of it. Winston was simply beside himself.
"Giblets or bird Giblets or bird. Thank you God THANK YOU!" he snorted and zoomed in for the kill.
I rescued the bird, nabbed most of the giblets and swatted Winston and SOMEHOW got dinner in the oven.
I'm going to have a glass of wine while dinner cooks. I've earned it. It smells really good in here. Has anyone seen the dog?
