So, I'm sorry, when I thought of moving here to Kansas, I thought, "hey, maybe we can live without television for a few weeks just to fully enjoy the relaxing pace." That idea quickly died. Yesterday, as I picked fleas out of my jeans and threw all the clothes I was wearing into a contamination trash bag, I decided to call up the cable company.
It wasn't so bad when we arrived and found we had no refrigerator or microwave. I thought, okay, it'll be fun to adapt. And I saw a freezer in the basement. Then I ran out and purchased a very large container of ant traps — just in case, I have lived in the midwest before — and multipurpose disinfectant for every surface. After wiping up and (hopefully) poisoning millions of pests, I felt generally better about my environ. I bought a microwave. I bought padding for our popped blow-up camping mattress.
Then dogs got fleas. (Their living quarters in the kitchen, below.)
The landlord said we could use the refrigerator in storage downstairs, but it had mildew problems.
The two-day-long rain made going anywhere impossible.
The laundromat was certainly a level of hell.
The oven doesn't work.
The stupid dog ate my last three Colorado apricots and mauled the peaches to pulp.
The fleas bit us.
It's about time to lose a little of this reality by immersion in reality television. I signed up for cable, effective today, and had to laugh to myself as not one but four cable guys tromped through the house bringing life to our 10" TV. They just left, so I have to go prepare a microwaveable lunch to eat in front of the television like my parents always told me I couldn't.