A Pump with no Seals

Cheryl is away this week at a conference (controlling whatever and whoever crosses her path) while Willow and I are feeling alone and sad.

An old friend of mine, Fast Eddie, sent me an email out of the blue yesterday, and we reminisced back and forth for a while. He was my first roommate in college--we rented an old house in the country. Nothing about that time seems real anymore, and it occurs to me that I could spin it in any possible way and not really lie. I could write two completely different autobiographies from that time, one happy and one sad (but both completely unnecessary). I'm guessing this is normal, and I will not cry girly tears over it.

Then yesterday my new water pump came in the mail, only it didn't have the pump shaft seals that it needed (oh, spank me for not knowing that I needed to order pump shaft seals), so the water just rushed out onto the motor when I finally got everything put back together. I had to call and order the seals (oh, you wanted the seals?), and now it will be 2 or 3 days of no circulation. The fish hate me for this, but I am growing impatient with their little attitudes. Fish is also food.

Last night I made some nice pasta with shrimp and Willow and I toured the neighborhood. And Cheryl will be back Sunday. So no more whining and no need to dwell on my previous life--I am happy with this one.