Going Nuts in a Whipped Cream Fantasy World


The Universe
One frozen Ice Cream
Treat for

Ever have one of those dreams where you think you’re a dancer living in another country, they use whipped cream (fully clothed) when they’re dancing and you think you’re so great at it–only to find out that you not only suck but you’re an embarrassment to the people who are trying to be nice to you?

It made me think–and that always ends badly.


Ever think that your life is one gigantic, embarrassing lie? You think you’re wrapped up all nice and pretty in a whipped cream fantasy world but everyone around you just wants you to go away.

You keep asking the universe, “What am I missing?”

The universe keeps answering, “The obvious.”

You keep pleading, “No…really…what am I missing?”

The universe sighs, wishing you’d just go away.

So you go out and buy a laser printer, hoping it will help you do your work better only to have your new printer decide your humble home isn’t where it wants to live. Then your refrigerator dies. That’s cold, universe. That’s just…plain…cold!

Why me? Why am I the one who has to need more dental work than I have teeth to do it in?

Breathe, FloridaBorne…breathe. Have some more of that incredibly acidic Thompson Irish Breakfast Tea with 2 pounds of honey in it. Yum.

That’s when the light comes on.   No. Really. I’m doing laundry at 5:30am because I can’t sleep. Now what?

I peer through the door to find a man in a white T-shirt looking through the freezer and say, “Thank God! I thought I was going nuts!”

My husband looks up at me with sharp, unamused eyes and says, “You are going nuts.”

That was a whole lot of NO HELP!

Frustrated beyond belief, I take note of the fact that the wash has been going with the lid open. It was on prewash, so I take the small bottle of Wisk, put it on the edge of the washer in preparation for the real wash cycle, and start to clean the inside of the dryer.

BAM BAM BAM BAM!!!!! What the hell? I rush to the washer, immediately shutting it down to find that the force of the spin has dumped the Wisk into the tub making it an unbalanced load. The lid is broken, the bottle looks like it’s been through a 12 car pile up on the LA expressway and now I have another problem to deal with. Soap overload.

Now what is the universe telling me–that I have to clean up my act?

Very, very NOT funny!

My hands smell like Wisk as it rolls down my arms, which are beginning to itch like my underarms did a few days ago. 

Maybe the universe is telling me that Earth is one molecule of a frozen treat that spilled on the floor and now she’s cleaning it up with Wisk?

No. That’s can’t be it. I guess I’ll just have to keep asking.