I’ve been sitting here at the computer for a while now, and for a while now I’ve been trying to concentrate on what I’m doing, and for a while now I’ve been failing at that because I am distracted. Distraction: a full bottle of water on the dresser in my bedroom with no lid on top.
An open container of water. I am being driven to distraction by an open container of water in another room.
The problem is not that I want to drink the water. Anyone who really knows me knows I would probably rather drink my own blood or urine than drink a glass of water, but, because I know it is good for me, sometimes I do drink water. And also because sometimes I get thirsty.
In order to make this particular bottle of water a little more appetizing, I flavored it with a water flavoring packet I picked up at the grocery store. I don’t know about becoming more appetizing, but it makes the water taste a little less like saliva. I mean, who wants to drink a large bottle full of saliva, right? This water now tastes like the rinse water from rinsing out a pitcher of strawberry Koolaid, or like I have a glob of Hubba-Bubba in my mouth when I take a sip.
No, the real problem is that the water is uncovered. I mean, if someone bumped it, it could spill.
So, I could go fetch the water, transport it to the table in here, and guard it. It could be right here where I can supervise it, if only I would get off my keister and go fetch it. Nah, but I could swing in and pick it up if I had to get up for another reason, say one of the kids fell off the pillow and blanket tower on the couch and broke his or her arm.
It’s a dilemma. If I go, I’ve given in to the water and to my hydro-spill-o-phobia. If I stay, I will be able to think only of the water and not get to what I really wanted to write about, which is pizza.
It seems like we are always out of pizza.
You know how you get snacky after dinner and get up to get a piece of after-dinner-pizza? And once you get to the fridge, you find you are out of pizza again? This is the problem I have been having.
You would think I could remember to pick some up at the store, but somehow it never makes it onto the list. It gets relegated to the category with paper towels, tin-foil, Worcestershire Sauce, and garbage bags. You always forget to get these things when you’re at the store, and then suddenly when you want to wipe up a spill the Brawny way, or bake a casserole that says “bake covered” or make a valentine box or line a cookie sheet, or make barbeque sauce out of regular ketchup, or throw something away, you can’t. Or maybe you don’t want to do any of these things; you just want to eat pizza. Well, you can’t.
Probably, I am remembering to buy the pizza and it is just getting eaten up too fast. I want to blame this on the children, but somehow I doubt Kammy The Nibbler is putting much of a dent in our two-year pizza supply. Yes, looking down at my pizza gut, I think it is me: I am the culprit; I am the reason we are always out of pizza.
Well, I fetched the water. I’ve decided I don’t want to talk about the pizza after all. It is a little too depressingly revealing. Or revealingly depressing. Either way, pizza is out, and water is in. Who would have thought I would ever say that?