The best laid plans

Finally, this morning I decided to sort out my garage junk. You know, stuff stored away 20 years ago, thinking... someday.... somehow.... I'll use it/need it. HA! Noooooo. Deceptive thoughts, rooted in the neurotic notion of "Pack-Rat-itis."
Decades later, gathering dust and spiders, the crap remains..... taking up space.

Parked my car on the street, tightened my ostomy support belt... and took down the first box. As I'm vacuuming off the dust, I feel the "urge." Try to ignore it. Goes away for a few seconds, then returns stronger. Yep..... I gotta pee. "Dammit."
Throwing caution to the wind, I continue to vacuum while doing a contorted version of the Watusi. Hoping Mr. Bladder will cut me some slack. Nope. I finally get the message; You will pee NOW.

Back to the house I trundle. Bumble up the stairs to my bathroom (Mrs. B guards her ground floor bath like Fort Knox).
Grumpily "drain the lizard."
Heading back to the garage, I stop in the kitchen for a snack. The weasel arrives, rubbing my leg. As I lean down to pet her, she runs to the stairs. OK, I've seen this movie before... she wants kibbles.
Hoo-kayyy. I trudge back upstairs to the kibble vault (closet). Toss her a few.

As I'm returning to the garage, Mrs. B asks me to look at her phone. The internet isn't working. I quickly point out she has it in "airplane" mode. I remind her we went over this same problem last week. She chuckles, "Oopsie."
By now, I've forgotten about the garage and launch into a detailed explanation about "airplane" mode. She gives me a puzzled look. "Why would I use it only on a plane?" I force a smile and think: Somewhere behind her blue eyes, there just has to be a shred of cognitive ability.
I tell ding dong to leave the airplane button alone... and retire to the couch. The weasel plops onto my lap, and soon I'm snoozing.

Hours later, Mrs. B wakes me up and says my car is gone. Then I remember, I was cleaning the garage!
Welp, a little late now to do it. Put the box and vacuum away, get the car.
Just as I'm settled in and comfy on the couch.... I get the "urge".......

Hey Beachboy,

I'm sure you'll find plenty of support from the large community here. We've all had those days where the best intentions get sidetracked by life's little interruptions. It sounds like you had quite the adventure trying to tackle the garage! I can totally relate to the "urge" hitting at the most inconvenient times. It's like our bodies have a mind of their own, right? And dealing with distractions like pets and tech issues just adds to the fun. But hey, at least you got a nap out of it!

Congrats on being part of this community! You'll find lots of support, information, and some really cool people who get what you're going through. Looking forward to hearing more of your stories!

Here's a sympathetic urinary agenda item for you:  explain to the missus why her reserved use of the downstairs bathroom is bad for your health (and potentially the well-being of your pants, carpet, etc).  

;-0

Like the comfy style of writing BB

BW

J

Only a whipped man can't use his own bathroom. 🙄 Crap, I have one I can't use either. 🤷‍♂️😁

Going upstairs is the path of least resistance. She already wears me down with her cell phone and TV remote troubles.

Staying Hydrated with an Ostomy with LeeAnne Hayden | Hollister

Get a urostomy. No more urges; though, ignore it at your peril.

Maybe not as helpful as I thought. Lol

Those of us married a long time.... The days of pleasant discord are long past.  

Married 1 to 5 years:  Honey, I love you.  Could you please be a dear and use the upstairs bathroom.  Thanks honey bunch. 🥰

Married 5 to 10 years:  Hey!  Thought I told you to use your bathroom upstairs, quit smelling up mine. 🤢

10 years and beyond:  Keep your soiled ass outta my bathroom.  I don't want piss drops on my seat or floor.  Stink up your own pig-sty. 👿

I came real close to getting one. Hernia repair mesh had adhered to my bladder. After the surgical removal of the mesh, I had to undergo a CT scan bladder leak test. Fortunately, my bladder was intact, though my surgeon said it looked beat up.

Silly me... here I thought... by topic name... the plan was about getting laid. 🤷‍♂️😋

Smh

He can't help himself....😇

Hi BB

Thanks for making me laugh.
I could see your weasel running around as I was reading your account.
I have to confess that thanks to my youngest cat's obsession with running over the keyboard of my laptop, she also managed to set it in airplane mode. My husband naturally had to come to the rescue.
Yesterday, IzzyBee took another shortcut over my keyboard, and this time she managed to shift the taskbar to the top - and it took me 2 hours to undo what that little terror did in 1.5 seconds flat!

Today, I learned that bumblebees really like ripened pears! There were so many, and they were actually eating the ones on the ground!

See you,
Grace

Every time I get on my home computer, the weasel jumps up on the desk and parks herself right in front of the keyboard. I attempt to work around this feline obstacle. Finally, I give in. I open the closet door and dole out a few kibbles. Then, while the weasel is distracted... I shut the bedroom door. Only to have Mrs. B come wandering in a few minutes later, wondering what I'm doing on the computer. She then says, "You know the cat was pawing at the door." As soon as the words leave her lips... the weasel jumps back on the desk, then plops down in front of the keyboard. Storm clouds form in my noggin. Knowing I've been beaten, it's time to relax... on the couch.

;-)0

It's all down to the 'comfy style of writing' ....

Me thinks it's synonymous with those relating a tale in the context of our K9 or feline engagements too .......

We all have 'been there'.

BW

J

I bought the family home from Mom in 1993. The garage still has lots of Dad's tools and junk (stuff that might be useful "someday"). So much clutter. He passed in 1984. I'm thinking it's time to clear out a lot of useless stuff that's not exactly heirloom quality.

It sounds like BB has a lot of excuses for doing nothing... 🤣🤣🤣

If someone looked up the word "procrastinate" in the dictionary.....

The only definition would be a picture...of me. 😉