Making Smart Decisions

Not really my strength the last two days...

"Oh but Jon, you are brilliant, how could you possibly go wrong." the IWBUAM Blog Readers reply.

"Well, even MENSA members like myself can Bush things up a little bit." Jon types with a smile, you see, to "Bush something up" is like taking FUBAR one step further.

My dear readers, allow me to point out 4+ examples of bad calls I have made over the last two days.

1. In lieu of getting off my duff while in the GAP break room, I instead reached up from my seat to remove my soup from the microwave. This is an especially bad idea when the soup is about 400 degrees and it runs down your arm. Three or four gauze bandages later and some burn-cream... it still freaking hurts. According to webmd.com, I have the visual signs of a 2nd degree burn on the side of my arm.

2. Monday morning, I wore running shoes to work... this is a two part mistake.
A. I don't think any male above the age of 12 should ever be allowed to wear tennis shoes with non-jean pants.... ever. Nothing says "my name is Forrest, Forrest Gump" like a grown man in bright sneakers with some freshly pressed Khaki pants. I was lazy and wanting to be comfy. Of course, the snow left on the ground here by the shore was nice and melted, 8 miles north of here, where my store is, there was a mushy 2 inches of slush covering all surfaces. Those who know me well know that I do NOT like my feet to be wet.
B. The same principle compounds this mistake when combined with bad decision #3.

3. So as the wet-foot wonder is heading home from work I have to pick up my Seattle Sutton's food for the week. The lady that distributes the food hounds you after 6pm so she can try to close before the 6:30pm closing time. On my to-do list was to mail some recently e-Bay'd goods, get gas, get food... the bad decision was made in the order in which I chose to complete my to-do list. Oh, I mailed my stuff, and two blocks north of Seattle Suttons, sputter sputter putt putt dead! With 19 miles DTE (distance til empty) left on the display, the Mini called it a day. Shit, of course Betsy would leave right after I picked my stuff up so there was no help there. 28 degrees, snow / ice covered sidewalks, and 2+ miles to the nearest gas pump... shoes mattered. I trekked on to buy a gas can, wet the Mini's whistle, and fill the tank up.

4. I got home and ate dinner, thawed a little bit, then went downstairs with a load of laundry to complete. As I heard the door close behind me at the bottom of the stairwell and I looked toward the door that lets you in the laundry room was to my front, I realized that the key to both was safely in the apartment. Sons of the Bitches I say with a hopeless smile!!! I have only done this one other time, when I had pneumonia in March, and I did what I did then... climbed the 12 foot cage and over the 2nd story rail to get to my apartment. I hope no thieves were taking notes.