1. I got a new oven. I got home from work on Monday, saw that the clock on my oven was on, said “Yay, they fixed my oven,” and that was that. THEN when I woke up the next day I was all like “Man, Imma cook some bacon because THE STOVE WORKS NOW! Then I saw that there was a chip in the top of it. “They must’ve chipped it when they moved it,” I thought, assuming at this point that the oven had been “fixed” by unplugging it and plugging it back in. Then I looked closely at the burner. “Wow, that looks a lot cleaner than I remember.” Then, slowly, it dawned on me. Is it? Could it be? There was only one way to find out… I opened the oven itself.
It was fuckin’ IMMACULATE. Absolutely NO apple pie filling baked on ANYWHERE, which might have been an issue with the last one. Ahem.
In short: YESSSSSSSSSS.
P.S. It works like an absolute dream. It pre-heats in what feels like milliseconds but is more likely just a normal length of time for fully-functioning ovens. And did I mention it’s clean? Spic-and-freaking-span, y’all. Just beautiful.
2. I got new windows! And I didn’t even have to break the old ones first! As part of some complex-wide improvifications, every single apartment in every single building got new windows. Flippin’ sweet, guys. The tentative install date for my building was Monday (or Oven Day as it shall be known henceforth), and we were instructed to move everything away from the windows in order to give the guys room to work. Seeing as my bed is right next to the window, and I assumed they’d start work at Ass o’ Clock, I leaned the frame and box spring up against the bedroom wall and moved the mattress itself into the living room to sleep. This way, I figured if they came barging in at the aforementioned Unholiest of Hours (see: any time before 10:00 am), I wouldn’t have to scramble to get things out of the way.
Except they didn’t show up on Monday.
Delayed by rain (and, oh, the fact that there were approximately 34938 windows to install first – my building was last on the agenda), they arrived Wednesday. Meaning, I slept on the mattress on the floor for three nights. Which, for the record, was AWESOME. Something about being directly on the floor, sans box spring, somehow made the bed much more comfy. Also, I had it pushed into the L where the sofa and loveseat meet, making my entire living room one big multi-level bed-like surface. And if that ain’t a dream come true, I don’t know what to tell ya, other than you’re probably not an inherently lazy person who is excited by the prospect of sleeping in a sunken next of every blanket and pillow you own. Also, you’re a weirdo.
When the window bros arrived at last, Bro #1 was quick to thank me for moving my furniture out of way, claiming I’m the only one who did it. Bro #2 was weirded out by the mattress in the living room, asking if I’d had a slumber party the night before. I laughed, thinking he was joking, and told him yes. Then he asked if I had kids or something, and I realized we were no longer on the same page. Get off my back, Window Bro. Just be happy I didn’t make you move that heavy-ass kitchen table. You’re welcome, and don’t judge the Blanket Pit. It’s the goddamn comfiest thing you’ll ever experience in your entire life and that is absolutely not an exaggeration. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make some cookies, because I HAVE AN OVEN THAT WORKS.