The Junk Drawer

You would think What’s That? posts would be easy to do, but you’d be so wrong. I’ve been looking for something to feature for days and nixed a ton of stuff. Muh head hurts. After a long struggle, I found something that made the cut.

This item has the following characteristics:

1. It does something.

2. I used it once and hated it.

Crystal clear, yes?

How to play:

1. The photo shows a small portion of a larger object.

2. First person to guess the object it’s a part of wins a Junk Drawer magnet and a mystery prize.

Most likely a prize involving bacon, since people keep giving me novelty bacon items they find in their travels. My desk drawer at work looks like a deli. Apparently, everyone I know thinks of me when they see bacon. How did that happen?

Go!

What’s that?

UPDATE: It appears I need to give a hint since no one has guessed the object correctly.

Because my brain didn’t hurt enough coming up with this item, I decided to write a clue in the form of a limerick. Limericks are hard to write at 5AM. Just sayin’.

I actually wrote better ones, but they would totally give it away. So here you go. My vague limerick:

You use it not inside, but out.

And hold as you walk all about.

It would be really swell

If it caused you to yell

"I’ve got something here, I’ve no doubt!"

Holy Marge Simpson! Look what blew into my yard today.

I don’t I remember the last time I saw a woman wearing one of these, but there must be at least one bouffant-headed woman in my neighborhood.

If you happen to wear a bouffant hairstyle or something else as worthy of protecting, you may be interested in other products the Betty Dain company makes.

Or not. I’m guessing not.

The Sister Mary Catherine: For when you’re feeling particularly pious on rainy days.

The Wedding Cake Topper: What? Why? I don’t get it. That’s not a cap. It’s a pair of granny panties.

The Bee Keeper: I could have used one of these last week. Of course, no one would have wanted to sit next to me at lunch. But that’s the price you’d pay for the bee keeper look.

The Conehead: For the severely pointy-headed among us.

The Dork: "Trendy and masculine?" Nice try, Betty Dain. Nice try.

Windy, March 2008

I miss you Windy

When I look out on your tree

All I see are leaves.

If you are in there

Can you give us a sign that

You are still with us?

Many of your fans

Wonder how you are doing

I have shed a tear.

Only time will tell

Whether you are still stuck in

Your big leafy tree.

I can’t wait til fall

Then I will know whether you

Are with us or gone.

If you aren’t with us

We’ll always remember you

Our dearest Windy.

Walking down the hall in my building at work today, I ran into three ladies I haven’t seen in a while. They were headed out to the patio to eat their lunches and so I joined them out in the sun for a bit.

No sooner did I sit down to regale them with my vacation details than I heard a buzzing in my ear. I knew it was a bee, but after a second or two, I thought it’d gone on its merry way.

No such luck. All three woman, looking more concerned than made me comfortable, yelled in unison "Don’t move!!!!"

The bee was still there, though now silent. A sitting duck, I waited to get stung.

Mercifully, one of the women swatted it away before the bee could get its stinger positioned for the kill.

Later in the day, I emailed my savior and thanked her for getting the bee out of my hair. I told her how my Monday would have sucked had I gotten stung in the head. My big, fat mop top head.

She wrote me back and said "Just think what the bee was thinking…. "Help me! I have flown into a hair labyrinth and can’t find my way out!""

She’s not kidding. Would you want to get stuck in this?

A Scary, Hairy, Curly, Whirly Thrill Ride for Bees

Somebody oughtta check for Jimmy Hoffa in there.

For a brief period between high school and my first real job, I worked the night shift at a mall.

One of the stores, a large pharmacy, was remodeling and needed people to unload merchandise from shelves, clean and reorganize while renovations took place. And they wanted it done round the clock so the store could reopen quickly.

It was the single worst job I’ve ever had.

My heart goes out to anyone who works 11PM-7AM. You’re basically living in another world. All the people with day jobs are relaxing or sleeping when you’re going to work. It completely messes up your view of everything.

I shot mental darts at people who were joyfully getting their days started, while I was going home to unwind and then sleep — in the middle of the day.

In the middle of sunshiny, action-packed, outside-noise-disturbing-my-sleep days.

Knowing that the rest of the world is up and active, while you’re unconscious, makes it that much harder. When I’d wake up, I could never really enjoy what was left of the day because I knew I had to report for work later.

I wouldn’t work the night shift again if you paid me ten times my salary now. Not worth it. Not kidding.

Anyone work a night shift? Anyone in a relationship with one who does? I’d like to hear how you cope.

I’d especially like to thank any medical or emergency professionals who routinely work the graveyard shift. You make it possible for us to call someone for help in the dead of night. Thanks for being there.