Wanna hear something? This is so typical of the way my week is going.
So, it's finally getting cool here. In fact, the last few nights have dipped into the low 50s; I'd say that's downright down-comforty. And yet, my cheap ass piece of shit building still hasn't turned the heat on. So, I get home tonight, tuck the kid all cozy in her bed, take a quick swim in the tub, and scamper all teeth-a-chatter into the kitchen, my brain on fire with another brilliant idea.
Now, I refuse to turn the oven on, generally, from May-September, because New York City is just too goddamned hot, and anything worth eating in summer is worth eating cold or raw, is my opinion. So tonight I think to myself, hey, I know. I'll bake something. And the kitchen will be filled with the delicious scent of sweet banana bread or brownies or some crap and I'll warm the apartment at the same time. Good. Yes.
Then I think, wait, you know, I'm really pretty lazy though. Why bake anything at all? Why not just turn the oven on 'broil' and get the house a little toasty, then shut it down, scoot my hiney under the covers and turn out the lights? Awwww, that's just crazy enough to work!
So I crank up the dial on the oven and wait for the magic to happen.
Only here's the thing. When a certain Babydaddy who shall remain nameless was staying at my apartment this weekend, he cooked something, and it spilled all over the inside of my oven.
I'm still not sure what was spilled. I'm thinking cheese, though he he swears up and down that he didn't spray-explode melted cheddar down the oven door, but within minutes of turning that fucker on, the entire kitchen was filled with the acrid smell of burnt asshair and a low-hanging gray smoke that made my eyes tear. Awesome. Good thing I disabled that annoying smoke alarm or else I'd have been dealing with that too.
So guess what I ended up having to do?
Open all the fucking windows.
And now I'm cold again.
October 15th Mercury starts spinning out of retrograde.
I'm just saying, is all.
