I never thought it would end this way

Risking the chance of blowing a gasket in my brain and smoke coming out of my ears, I will write my final post from The Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude files. As you know if you have been following the files, The Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude and 'her' have moved back to China leaving their incompetent relatives to run/ruin their business. They lost my four shirt.
I understand mistakes can be made. But am a customer, paying for a service and expect to be treated as though I have several active brain cells working simultaneously, therefore distancing myself from idiot status. In other words I know what the husbands shirts look like and I'm positive I know what size they are.
I picked up four shirts from my new dry cleaner. She's an Indian woman and easier to understand in person than on the phone. I've had conversations with her, in fact I think I've spoken to her more in the two times I've been there than I ever did at that old place. Not counting the recent yelling. She remembered our first phone conversation and knows me by name already and I think she is trying to recruit me as a volunteer salesman in my community. She's asked me to spread the word around about her Dry Cleaning. Anyone within the sound of my voice take her some dry cleaning. I don't want to search for another dry cleaner if she goes out of business.
I waited a week for the incompetent ones to call me. No call so I put the cleaned shirts in my car, these are the ones I had on the counter ready to drop off and pick up. But if you lose my shirts, I'm not going to leave you more to lose. I walked in the old place and the moment Incompetent Girl saw me she immediately gave me the four shirt she tried to pass off as mine originally. The ones that are 2 sizes to small and brown. The husband never wears brown. So I looked at her and in a loud but calm voice said,
"How many times do I have to tell you these are not my husbands shirts before you believe me?"
She responded by talking down to me,
"These are your shirt. My brother saw the sizes on the shirt you had on the counter and they are the same size as these."
So there you have, she struck a nerve, I blew a gasket, they started talking Chinese behind the counter and pointing at me. I went to my car, showed her my freshly washed and pressed shirts from my new dry cleaner and the size on each one. I looked her in her eyes and said,
"You are going to pay me for the four shirts you lost now."
And she wrote me a check.
It was a sad way to end my relationship with The Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude files. I never thought it would end this way.

They lost my four shirt!

They lost my four shirt! Damn it, they lost my four shirt! I went to the dry cleaners formally known as The Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dudes and their distant relatives that took over the store lost my four shirt. I knew something like this would happen. And I knew I would be forced to find a new dry cleaner. Gah! I have things to do.
I'm in the throws of a raging sinus infection and the antibiotics aren't working. This is nothing new for me but I feel like hell. So don't give me 'four shirt' that are 2 sizes smaller than the ones I dropped off and ask me if I'm sure they are not mine. And then don't ask me that two more times, cause I'm cranky.
Now apparently these distant relatives of my beloved Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude gave my 'four shirt' to somebody else. I have to wait to see if somebody else realizes he has the wrong 'four shirt' and brings them back or decides they are nicer than the ones he dropped off and keeps them. Since I'm not scared of these new dry cleaners I told them,
"You are going to pay me for 4 new shirts if I don't get these back."
Notice there wasn't a question mark punctuating that last statement. She responded,
"Yes."
If worse comes to worse I get to go shopping. Four new shirts for the husband and I should get myself something nice too. For the trauma I've suffered and the strain on my already weakened state.
Now the good news. I got on the internets and found a new dry cleaner, not to far away. But the best part.....wait for it........the woman that answered sounded ethnic. I could barely understand her and I don't think she understood me either. I'm so stoked.

Margarita-ville

I blew out my flip-flop. Stepped on a pop-top. Cut my heel had to cruise on back home. But there's booze in the blender. And soon it will render that frozen concoction that helps me hang on.
I don't visit Margarita-ville often and I suppose there's a reason. I like them, a lot. They are de-licious. I found myself in a Mexican restaurant, seated around a table with family and friends and a glass of that wonderful liquid in front of me. They go down so easy. We arrived hungry, a margarita on an empty stomach goes to work quick. So I shoveled down chips and salsa as fast as I could. I wanted a slight buzz and to also enjoy my dinner. But you make one slip like slurring your words or grinning and not being able to stop, friends and family pounce on your inebriated state and order more drinks. Before you know it you have a new full glass of de-licious frozen margarita with the salt around the rim of the glass waiting for you to slam it down.
Two of us at the table had no problem slamming them down, it was the standing up part that proved to be a challenge. Right Diane? We don't know who the people in the picture are but they were celebrating something and some dancing was involved, it wasn't me. I took the picture but was jealous I didn't get a hat. I would have liked a hat. I remember eating a lot and have a good time. Once in a while a trip to Margarita-ville is a really good idea. Right Diane?

Snot Preparedness Process

Everyone in the house was sick, they went down one after the other, except me. I remained snot free. I thought I was in the clear until yesterday. I now have a head full of snot. Being the number one caregiver in the house because no one else will do it and because it's in my nature to tell people what to do, I must take care of myself.
I have my beloved Nyquil so I'm not worried. But to make life easier and to keep from getting out of my warm bed in the middle of the night, over the years I've perfected a snot preparedness process before going to bed.
On my windowsill I place some tissues, a small glass of water and nasal spray. So when I wake up not being able to breath through my nose my tissues are right there so I can blow. Then I have a glass of water for the dry mouth I have from breathing through my mouth. Then I can snort the nasal spray, clearing my nasal passages without getting out of bed.
I urge you to try my system as I think it's a pretty good plan unless you have to pee. One warning though, I found this out the hard way. If you are immersed in the throws of a raging cold or the flu and your thought process is affected or you are working on a good Nyquil buzz, leave the nasal spray in the bathroom. This is why:
Half asleep in the middle of the night, not able to even recall the names of my children, I grabbed the nasal spray. I broke protocol and went right to step 3. I didn't even lift my head off my pillow, shoved the upside down bottle up my nose and shot the liquid straight to my brain. It burned my sinus cavities on the way. Once in there it dislodged several brain cells, rendering me an idiot. The brain cells are still in there slamming against the inside of my skull wondering what the hell happened. My eyeballs almost popped out of their sockets and I'm quite certain smoke came out of my ears. After the initial thrust into my brain the liquid then flowed down the back of my throat, scorching my esophagus as it made it's way to my stomach where it settled only to make me nauseated. At that point I had to get out of bed to first throw up and then to make sure everything on my face was where it was suppose to be. I was happy to see my eyes still in their sockets. But I looked like hell. I made myself worse.
I hope I've helped some of you during this cold and flu season. Oh and don't tell my mom about this post, she gets mad when I say snot.