So, I went to the store to buy kitty litter for the little honeys. I always buy the ten pound bag. Today, they only had 50 lb. bags. I lugged it home, then nearly fell down the stairs with it. At that very moment, mister kitty decides it’s time to go to the bathroom, so I hastily empty the old stuff, wash out the tray, and refill it while he’s eyeing every move that I make. Here you go kitty, I’ll set it down for you, a nice fresh box. He scratches around, then balances on the edge and craps on the floor.
I’m driving in downtown traffic with the wife, and I notice there’s a vacant lane. I can’t believe my luck. We’re sailing past all the gridlock, when she says to me “What are those funny marks on the road?” We’re in a bus lane, going the wrong way, and one’s coming right for us. True story.
On the highway this time. There’s serious construction up ahead, and I have moved 45 feet in 45 minutes. No hope of an exit. Damn, I wish I hadn’t have gulped that extra large coffee, “one for the road”. I really really really have to pee now. There are transports on both sides of me, and they’ve got a bird’s eye view just as I start to seriously consider using that empty coffee cup. I’m wondering if they’ll notice how I set things up, complete with a newspaper tent over the whole business.
I see an ad for a beautiful wooden file cabinet, just the kind I’m looking for. The people who have it live 30 miles away, but I decide to take the drive. I get there, and they are waiting in the driveway, all smiles. I back up to load it, and find out it is exactly one inch too big, in any direction, to fit into my vehicle. We’re all standing around scratching our heads, and I actually consider tying it to my roof, but no one has any rope. The guy goes to his garage and comes out smiling again with an assortment of screwdrivers and wrenches. We perform a complete disassembly and all is well. Home again, and I carry the parts in five trips into the house. Damn, I think, this is like a freaking Tetris puzzle. Next step: browse about 39 pages of Ikea cabinets, only to find out I can’t get the instruction manual from them. Finally wind up paying some schmuck ten bucks because he has a PDF printable file of it. Drive to the hardware store for that one special screwdriver I don’t have. Then, in one magical afternoon, it is finally done. I go to move it into place, and wonder why it is so rickety.
I forgot the glue.
Lee Dunn has been writing since the age of 18, but found that work got in the way for the ensuing 48 years. In his home town of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, he reveled in his independence at an early age, and spent as much time as he could exploring the city’s Arts scene. He was introduced to poetry and prose by the works of two literary giants, namely J.R.R. Tolkien and J.W. Lennon and thence fell in love with the written word. His work includes poetry, short fiction, and personal essays, and ranges in theme from the surreal to the horrific, nostalgic, and themes on the human condition. He has been published on Spillwords.com, The Dark Poets Club, Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Crepe & Penn Literary magazine, and the Shelburne Free Press.