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If you’ve known me for very long, you know that Saturday mornings before 11 a.m…. well, let’s just say it’s my sacred time. I’m often up late on Fridays and I like to sleep in. I like to wake up lazily and read before I get out of bed. I like to stay in my jammies (and do laundry – ha!) as long as possible. It’s the one day I schedule nothing until at least noon. Down time. Me time. Zzzzzz time.

This morning, at 8:26 a.m., there was a light knocking at the door, which became a hard, obnoxious knock at 8:27 a.m. I stumbled downstairs and opened the door. The two guys from the Salvation Army had arrived to pick up the broken washing machine we were discarding. Originally, we were supposed to call them between 8 – 8:30 a.m. to find out when we were scheduled for pickup, which obviously hadn’t happened. Apparently, we were scheduled for pickup at 8:26 a.m.

I remembered mumbling instructions for the guys to come around to the back of the apartment. This meant that the annoying back up warning beep on the truck beeped all the way back to the main street of our apartment complex and all the way back down the backside of the apartment. (My roommate, meanwhile, was still in bed and heard the beep and wondered why she couldn’t get her alarm clock to shut off). I’m sure all of the other apartment dwellers on our block were not pleased by the noise, either.

Jene’ comes downstairs at this time, mumbling to herself, that she couldn’t figure out why she couldn’t get her alarm clock to shut off. I mumble back that I have to move my car (did I mention I’m still in my jammies?)… yes, I had to operate heavy machinery at 8:32 a.m. before my brain was fully operational. I had to back up my car so we could get the washing machine out of the back gate. I pulled my car back into its parking space as the Salvation Army guys pull away. Jene’ is standing in the doorway wondering why they came before we called to find out when they would come… or something like that.

Back to bed. Sigh. Am all clammy because it’s already 80 degrees and humid outside. My heartbeat slows and I doze off until…

My phone rings at 9:32 a.m. Everyone I know knows the no phone calls on Saturday before 11 a.m. unless someone is bleeding, kidnapped or dead (or having a baby). It’s a woman with a thick accent asking for Reverend P. and that she got my home number from the number left on the message. (Reverend P. was the former user of my former cell phone number, and he hasn’t had that number for over two years because I had it). I tell her she has the wrong number and hang up, wondering how she got my home #. Then I slowly remember that as my old cell phone battery was dying in January I changed my message to include my home # so people could get in touch with me until I got a new phone. I gave that phone back to my employers at the end of January and assumed that the message would cease to exist as soon as the cell phone was deactivated. Granted, there was some confusion about the cell phone and in March I was contacted and asked about it, but even then, I assumed when it was finally deactivated that the message would cease to exist. Au contraire. I called my old cell # and was able to change my message to, “This was Sharon’s phone, but now it’s not. Consider this a wrong number.” So, I e-mailed the proper people at my old job and told them what happened that they might want to check whether it was ever deactivated or not. After all… why keep paying for it when no one is using it? Of course, it could be that the phone was deactivated but the message was not, but in either case, I wanted them to check.

UGH. So, I tried to go back to bed and read, but I couldn’t so I went down and ate some Cheerios and tried to wake up. Then I felt conscious enough to apply some Garnier Nutrisse #101 to my hair and shower before this other guy came to pick up the old dryer. Such a busy Saturday morning for me – ha ha… busier than usual anyway.

Now I have to help figure out what we are going to do with all the things (including the vacuum cleaner) that we used to store on top of the broken washing machine. Have a good evening!


I seek to live, breathe & work creatively. Late bloomer. I survived breast cancer and so much more. I will meet each challenge w/determination, badassery & sass!

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