Dark windows, dead silence, dim moonlight dancing on the walls. The night is calm and quiet and peaceful.
And then BOOM: your eyes burst open and you bust out of bed in an adrenaline-gushing, brain-rushing, heart-crushing state of emergency. Dizzy and blind, you urgently stumble over to the clock as thoughts whip through your head — am I late for work, did I miss the buzzer, do I have time for a shower?
You swipe the clock, zoom it up to your squinty eyeballs, and get a good look.
“4:56 AM,” it screams in its trademark crisp, bright-red florescent silence. “4:56 AM.”
Stunned, your wobbly brain slowly pieces it together. “That is too early much than I thought,” you think. “I should back into go to bed.”
And then a slow, thin smile curls on your lips as you turn to stare at your crumpled cocoon, readying yourself to flip the pillow and dive back into Bedhead Paradise. Oh, you know that sweet cruise into dreamland will be a doozy for a few big reasons:
Yes, waking up before your alarm clock and realizing you’ve got lots of sleep time left is a great thing. Sure, your heart pulses and your brain convulses, but you quickly realize there’s a long time left for a lot more sleeping.
And you know what we like to call that around here.
AWESOME!
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We’ve all been there.
Mustard-mayo swirls drip from the back of the hot-dog, coffee cups splash on the drive to work, and spoonfuls of lumpy ice cream crumble and go for a ride.
Yes, we’re all familiar with the classic Day-Long Shirt Stain, also known as the International Symbol of Clumsiness. Whether it’s a samosa spill on your sari, a wasabi smear on your kimono, or an olive oil splash on your freshly ironed toga, we all know what that spill means and that spill screams: you are messy.
It’s sad but it’s true, folks. Kiss the job interview goodbye, end the first date early, and skip the big toast at your daughter’s wedding. It’s all over now because you had your chance and you blew your chance. Guacamole smears on your tie and tomato squirts on your tux just trashed your night and trashed your mood.
Yes, we’ve all been there. And none of us like stained shirts.
But that’s why it’s so great when you just barely escape the stain. Yes, these drip-dodging miracles can happen one of three ways:
1. The Pick-Me-Up. That lumpy clump of ice-cream rolls off your belly and skids straight to the ground leaving only a couple rogue chocolate chips sitting in your belly-button dent. What a save. Just pick it up.
2. The Camouflage Mirage. When the juicy beef-drippings leaking out of the taco land squarely on a juicy beef-dripping-colored stripe on your clothes. Lucky break and now you can enjoy the day being clumsy in camo.
3. The Against-All-Odds. Here’s where you have absolutely no right to avoid the stain but do so for mystical reasons that defy all logic. Somebody steals a nacho and carelessly drops its load on your sleeve, but somehow it just skis off gracefully onto the tablecloth. A full beer gets spilled and drips all over you, but some quick whisking just blows it away and … no harm done. We can’t explain these ones, but they are true miracles.
Yes, a big spill without a big stain cranks the happiness dial to 10. That’s because you played with fire and came out cool, hung over the edge but pulled yourself back, and nearly ended it all, but instead just ended up being
AWESOME!
Photos from: here, here, and here
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When your bucket of bolts clicks over a major milestone you can’t help but smile and feel proud.
“We made it, rusty lady,” you say out loud, slapping the dash and honking the horn as you sit jammed in the KFC drive-thru. “Happy birthday, you ol’ highway roller. Never thought we’d get this far.”
And ain’t it true: when your car clicks over a big, fat number it sure is a special day. After all, assuming you cruise an average of 15,000 clicks a year, you only score this major move once every five or six calendar turns.
That’s reason enough to celebrate.
Plus, I’m guessing you probably saw it coming for a while, too. Sure, maybe you were grabbing groceries or dropping the kids off at day care last month when a 99,398 caught your eye or a 198,881 made you do a double-take. And maybe you made a mental note to get ready. Maybe you wondered where you’d be when the big day came.
Maybe you bought a dress.
If so, I certainly don’t blame you because when your rustbucket’s clicker-counter snaps into new territory, it’s like she’s suddenly all growed up. You smile slowly and breathe in chicken and diesel fumes as your mind rushes back to great times you’ve shared over the years: when you first met, playing pranks at the gas station, and mindlessly chilling on lazy summer afternoons.
Yes, watching your odometer click over a major milestone is a great feeling. Congratulations on being there for the big day.
AWESOME!
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Put your hand up if you’ve ever accidentally yanked the entire roll of aluminum foil out of the box when you were trying to swipe a small slice?
My brother, if your hand is up right now, you are not alone.
See, I’m a bit clumsy in the kitchen, too. My oven burners are covered in burnt sauce stains, my sink drains are full of slithery, rainbow-colored bits of last night’s dinner, and my Tupperware cupboard looks like the Tasmanian Devil’s mudroom.
And add to these issues my apparent love of yanking entire sheets of aluminum foil clear out of the box. Honestly, I just give a little tug and out pops the entire roll, hitting the floor and rolling away while laughing its trademark crackly metallic laugh.
Yeah, just tell me that’s not a pathetic scene: cut to freeze-frame of tired-looking man in bedhead and sweatpants holding the edge of aluminum foil in one hand and an empty box in the other, then slowly pan down to a floor covered in a thick, shiny snake of metal crinkled across the floor.
Folks, the only thing that looks worse is the fat, crumpled rolled-back-up roll half-stuffed in the box after you tried to put it back together again.
Yes, we’ve all been there.
But guess what? High tens around the room, because there is hope for People Like Us. Shockingly, I have recently discovered those little tabs on the side of the aluminum foil box that hold the roll in place! Believe it, food preservation fans, because they truly exist.
Yes, the little tabs on the side of the aluminum foil box can be indented so they anchor the roll in the box. Honestly, it’s a jaw-dropping discovery — like finding out your new apartment gets free Wireless or realizing there’s a little arrow in your car that tells you where to find your gas hole.
Now, whenever it was, whenever it is, whenever it will be: how good does it feel when you first discover those little tabs yourself? Give it up for a pretty good buzz.
So join me today as we give thanks to that modern miracle of the kitchen cupboard: those little tabs on the side of the aluminum foil box.
Also on Saran Wrap.
AWESOME!
Photos from: here, here, and here
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You know the feeling.
Your favorite characters are introduced, the story kicks off, but then a couple plot twists and turns seem a bit unfamiliar. Suddenly it dawns on you: you have no clue how the movie wraps up. No, you can’t remember who the killer is, who dies, or if the cats ever get married. You can’t remember the ending at all and you’re loving every minute of it.
Yes, you dim the lights, snuggle under the blanket, shush up your chatty husband, and stay glued to that screen.
Because it’s like hey, guaranteed blockbuster.
AWESOME!
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Sometimes you just gotta peek.
As you unwrap the Lindt truffle, peel open the McDonald’s cheeseburger, or scoop that second bowl of ice cream, you can’t help turn the package around to glance at the nutritional information panel on the back.
And guess what’s waiting for you over there? You got it, baby: 64% of your daily saturated fat intake, 76% of your cholesterol, and a couple big buckets of carbs.
Then there’s the quick pause, involuntary eye-twitch, or guilty look at the person munching salad beside you. But I hope after that brief moment of self-doubt, you just keep going, man, you just keep scooping it in. Sure, you might have to turn the label away, avoid sodium for the rest of the day, or give your shoulders a shrug to say “Hey, it’s okay,” but I hope you keep going, hope you savor it slowly, and hope you enjoy every last bite.
Sometimes you just gotta read the nutritional label and eat it anyway.
Sometimes … you just gotta live.
AWESOME!
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A jammed photocopier is a terrible scene.
Yes, toner fumes fill the air, plastic doors are swung open, and crumpled papers lay wedged tightly in the Xerox machine’s Plinko board torso of hot springs and bright green clasps.
And there you stand at the scene of the crime in your pleated pants and button-down shirt. Yeah, I’m guessing the last thing you feel like doing right about now is dropping to your hands and knees and poking your fingers into a steaming engine of paper trays and twirly knobs.
That’s what makes it so great when a bugle blares softly in the background and out pops the King Of The Office from around the cubicle wall. Yes, it’s Unjammer-Man, that young techie kid from the IT department who can de-clog the photocopier in no time flat and is happy to lend a hand.
Your lips curl into a big smile as you hug your expense report and watch him do the deed. Knobs are twiddled, clasps are fiddled, and soon the photocopier is humming like it’s a brand new day. Yes, now that someone’s unjammed the photocopier for you, you’re back in business, baby.
And you’re loving it.
AWESOME!
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