Monday afternoon: The Zadge’s dog walker sends her an email informing the Zadge that she is quitting, citing the difficulty in keeping Harry from eating poop while walking two dogs who pull in different directions. This, after Harry had diarrhea for several days — including in the house and in the middle of the night — and the Zadge sent said dog walker an email instructing her to not let him eat freakin’ poo on their walks.
Monday evening: The Zadge gets out of work late and frantically tries to pack for her 6 a.m. flight the next morning to visit the Fin Fan Club, figure out what the hell she is going to do for a dog walker while she is gone for a week, and get ready for her date with Bruce Springsteen.
Yes, the Zadge apparently morphs into a hairy middle-aged man when she doesn’t get enough sleep.
The Zadge had bumped Danny boy way down on her Fake Boyfriend list after he cheated on her by marrying that Rachel chick, but after spending some quality time with him, she thinks she’ll move him back up. Maybe second behind Keef.
Wednesday Evening: The Zadge leaves the movie theater only to discover a voice mail message from her credit card fraud department, asking her to call and confirm a recent purchase. She returns the call and informs them that no, she did not charge SEVEN THOUSAND DOLLARS to some company in Chicago called “Emergency Fund.” The Zadge thinks back and realizes that she had only used the credit card once in the past week and that was when it was swiped (but not charged) to get into the Springsteen concert with her paperless tickets. She opens her own official investigation, determined to catch the mother f$#kers. See The Zadge’s Previous Vigilante Efforts.
Thursday: The Zadge gets to spend hours of fun family time, as her bro and wife host the Turkey feast. She finally gets to see this little cutie, the only blonde she knows who can pull off orange:
Georgie, as the Fin calls him, found the best cat toy in the house:
Friday night: The Zadge jams with her brother-in-law, an accomplished guitar player, wherein “jams” means the Zadge clumsily strums the chords to “Brown-Eyed Girl” over and over again, while humming to the songs her brother-in-law can actually play:
Saturday: Before heading to the airport, the Zadge, the Sista and the Fin hit the hip town of Hampden, just outside of Baltimore, for a little shopping and lunch. The Zadge bought some cool jewelry and a fragrant candle. PAY ATTENTION TO THE CANDLE. It comes into play later. Those of you in the Hampden-know will recognize this landmark:
The Sista was battling a brutal case of Pink Eye that was not responding to antibiotics, so she bought those funky sunglasses in Hampden to give her some cover. The Fin already had his:
Sunday: After a late Saturday night arrival back in Denver, the Zadge awakes rested and ready to roll, She works out, walks the dogs, does laundry, hauls out the Christmas decorations, strings lights outside, hangs stockings, makes a big pot of soup and runs errands, including hitting the local Whole Foods. Here is the $5 loaf of “Golden Age Boule” — which the Zadge highly recommends, by the way — a mere ONE MINUTE after the Zadge placed it on the counter, way back in the corner where she thought Harry couldn’t reach it, and ran upstairs to move the laundry from the washer to the dryer:
Apparently Harry recommends it too.
And finally, Sunday evening, the Zadge settles into her couch with a yummy bowl of Minestrone soup to watch her third NFL game of the day, her new “Pine-scented White Christmas” candle burning, while she admires her Christmas decorating efforts. She decides to pick up Blue Lena and practice her strumming.
As she strums over and over “You my, brown-eyed girl,” she thinks to herself, “Wow, that candle is really potent.” Something in her brain tells her to lower her guitar so she can see the coffee table in front of her.
And that’s when she sees the new plastic notebook she had purchased a few hours earlier at Tar-jay to hold all her guitar homework, utterly aflame in the middle of her coffee table, lit by her new candle:
But then she sighs At least her Rolling Stones books weren’t harmed.