,Look, the last type of blogger I ever want to be perceived to be is some fliberty gibbit typing away at her laptop, eyes glazed over, looking off into space, and nothing but nonsense about her her fiance, her boyfriend, or her husband, ever shows up on the screen. *YAWN* "My fiance is so sweet, or I hate my fiance or, guess what I am taking all my ex husbands money", RETARDED.
Not that I sit around all day with my legs crossed, chin in palm, deeply thinking about what kind of freakin blogger I want to be, as if its some type of important thing to be thinking about at ALL. I mean come ON. It's just that I started typing this and I was like "OMG! I hope I am not THAT girl! Must I clarify? Yes, I must!"
holy mother of god. 2 coats.
So, back to death to the fiance thing. MY fiance takes his showers first in the mornings, usually shortly after he lovingly makes the coffee. He even makes me my very own glass of coffee and puts it in the freezer for me because he knows how I like it cold. Awww. But put that part OUT OF YOUR MIND because we are MAD at him, ok? After his shower you want to know what he does? Do ya? HE TURNS THE HOT WATER HEATER OFF!
Now ladies this is going to sound strange but it took me about 3 weeks of dripping wet trips, sprinting naked to the breaker box, in the MIDDLE of a shower to figure out this freakin pattern. Now that I have it figured out I STILL have to run to the breaker box naked, all crouched over using my hands as Eve's leaves would be used, in some sort of crab like, two legged race at the county fair, type of run. Really, the ONLY part that is different is that only ONE LEG is soaking wet because I still get naked and halfway in the shower before I remember.
This is 3 thin coats. Need I say more? I think not.
Now why is it that I RUN to the breaker box covering my private parts? It's because for some reason, every time, I am always totally POSITIVE someone has broken in and will be walking down the hall the precise second that I run by naked. Now, logically if someone has broken in my home, which I am always certain they have, the top thing on my list of worries probably should not be them seeing my boobies. It should probably be something more along the lines of being murdered. But still, the covering of the boobies and The Hunchback of Notre-Dame run are instincts I just cannot overcome while running naked through my house.
It only took ONE dripping wet trip to the breaker box in the middle of a shower for my fiance to stop turning off the freakin hot water heater folks. ONE. After all the times I had scowled, and screamed and screeched, "STOP TURNING OFF THE HOT WATER HEATER" at him in the voice of a 70 year old woman that been smoking for 50 of them. It only took ONE time for HIM to experience it to make him stop. Not to mention he still thinks HE was the one that "accidentally" turned it off the night before his shower.