Dirt-bags and Space Heaters!

Dirt-bags and Space Heaters!
By: Sugaree

Dirt-bags and Space Heaters!
My goodness! I never realized that being alone could be so hard. Recently, I went to Steins to purchase some soil and mulch. Boy, was that stuff heavy. My beloved husband or son would have picked up those items.

One man realized my struggle and put three bags of dirt on my cart for me. The problem was, once I made it home, there I would have to struggle to get the dirt-bags out and then drag them to where I wanted to plant.

I really miss having a husband or just someone that understands that a woman has to preserve her beautiful nails and do not need to break them off on dirt-bags, human or otherwise.

Wisconsin weather sucks! It was summer like just a few days ago. I was sure that I could put my little space heater away. WRONG! I trudged down two flights of stairs into the dark spooky basement and kindly said to my space heater, "Good ridden!"

Well, I guess my space heater heard me and probably knew that I'd need 'him' again. The dirty little dusty rascal was right. I trudged back down the stairs into the dark dank spooky basement, alone, and there it sat with a smirk.

I softy apologized to it as I picked it up and ran back to the safety of my kitchen, out of the darkness and spookiness of the basement. Out of breath from fear and running, I paused and posed myself for the next flight.

Granted I was not as cold as I had been when I dreadfully sought the warmth of my little dusty space heater, I did not plug him in right away. I moved about getting all setup to watch a movie until a fell fast asleep. The perfect boring night. There were other passions that ran through my head that I could have done, like writing or having mad passion sEx but doing that alone is not all it is cracked up to be either.

So, finally, I go back downstairs and make myself a healthy helping of fruit and veggies, something light for a late night snack. By the way, that cucumber was pretty enticing. Anyway, I dash my Italian dressing about, grab some orange juice and head back up.

After I ate this and watched the horrid Milwaukee news, I'm cold again. I popped the DVD of choice in, pulled my covers back and plugged in the little dusty space heater.

Suddenly, my entire house is dark! I scream and run for the flashlight as if it were a life-sustaining mechanism. Immediately, I turn it on and felt a bit of security when I realize Jason, Freddy Cooger and Psycho Man aren't standing before me.

I head back for the basement to trip the switch to turn the fricking electricity back on. Now, really scared sh*tless, I'm slowly trudging back down these damned scary arse stair but now in the dark with the exception of my life sustaining flashlight.

I flick switch unknown to me. I panic when I hear a sound. It's only the folk in the next townhouse. I head back up, running again but faster this time. Out of breathe again but satisfied to see the lights on. This must mean that the ones in my bedroom are on too.

Wrong. I head back down the stairs to the basement. This time I'm not so scared but more mad. If any of those creepy characters mess with me, the writers of those creeps will finally have their real finale cause I am gonna f*ck them up I'm so mad.

I flick switches and curse aloud. I head back up the stairs. I head back to my bedroom. No fricking lights! WTF?!

Where is my soul mate? I don't want to have to pick up dirt-bags or use artificial heat. There shoulda been someone here to keep me warm and to pick that dirt-bag up for me. Fortunately, I didn't loose a nail this time.

Well, I guess it's better than a human dirt-bag I could have been 'pickin'up' putting the wrong kinda heat in my room. I guess that's the bright side?

The other rooms have electricity but not my room. I wonder what kind of fuse did I blow and why. That is certainly not what I had in mind to blow in my, now dark, cold room.