Chapter Fifty Seven; Mr. Clean, Honest Abe, and my Near Death Experience

Not again.

When you live in a three story house a laundry chute is a plus. But unfortunately it gets the occasional clog. And I have to get creative. Normally it involves my throwing a compilation of things onto the jam from full shampoo bottles to paper weights until the weight of it all finally forces the clothing constipation lose and I hear the glorious release when the wad hits the basement floor two stories below.

This week though the blockage looked to be manageable by my just reaching down into the darkness. A little bit more . . If I stretch just a bit . . . Almost there . . .

Pretty soon I realize, as I am shoving the assortment of scrunched towels further and further down the chute, that my head and shoulders are pretty damn far down this thing as well.

Shit.

Insert minor panic attack.

In a split second images of myself wedged upside down in a cavity of my house for days on end while futilely screaming for someone to rescue me rushes through my blonde brain. I am the queen of claustrophobia. Don't even try to convince me to get into an elevator with more than four people in it, so the very thought of it all coming to an end in my laundry chute was so unsettling that I yanked the top half of my body out of that thing so fast I took some skin off my left shoulder and didn’t even care.

I was just thankful not to be upside down with my face crammed up against my dirty underwear.

What a way to go.

I took some deep breaths and vowed from then on to stick to hair care products and decorative bricks from my home office when it comes to towel entanglements.

Phew.

This almost death by stupidity episode happened while I was doing something I absolutely love to do: clean my house. Yes, I realize, this is not most people's idea of fun but I look at this way: I am lucky to have a house. What on earth do I have to complain about?

This mindset of mine can be attributed to one of my favorite quotes of all time, "People are about as happy as they make their minds up to be." And although the president who uttered this damn straight statement is far more famous for declaring, "Four score and seven years ago," I am a bigger fan of this little tried and true life tidbit myself.

Old Abe would be proud. I am an eternal optimist. Show me some lemons and I'll grab the sugar. Suck up the lemonade I just made ya and I’ll tell ya that thar glass is half full, missy. And if this entire scenario happens to play out at a neighborhood lemonade stand and rain starts threatening our fun, I will be the first to point out the sparkling lining that comes with a good summer rainstorm: No need to run the sprinkler today. Whoo hoo! Let’s go to the movies with the money we’re going to save on the water bill.

Life is too short and too sweet to sit and bitch about everything and anything. Housecleaning included. Now hand me that bottle of environmentally-unfriendly chemical cleaning solution with that smiling bald man in the tight white t-shirt on the logo. That sucker is heavy. And is just the ticket for my latest garment obstruction.

Because let me tell ya. I may be a neat freak optimist.

But I am no fan of death by laundry chute.