Jayne ,'The Train Job'
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
In terms of moving into any NYC apartment, a queen size box spring probably won't fit up the stairs.
I discovered the existence of the split box spring (for queen and king) when I lived in an apartment in which my bedroom was the 3rd floor attic with a narrow stairway with 2 turns. No ordinary box spring was going to make it.
My bed is a little higher off the floor than the typical metal frame. When I first got it, I put both my mattress and box spring in it, and it was so high that I had to literally climb into bed. Another reason to ditch the box spring.
Air mattresses aren't great unless they're fully inflated, so yeah, if you don't like a firm mattress, it's not for you. I hated my ex-BF's waterbed with a passion, because he liked it sloshy and never filled it all the way.
When I moved in here, since I was using my grandmother's bedroom furniture, I started off sleeping on her mattress, and it was way too soft and fluffy for me. Finally I swapped them, and I am back on my 15-year-old one that is still just fine. I bought the mattress and boxspring together used for I think $100.
Ow, Dana! You should definitely have a juice box and some stickers.
How do Fleet enemas expire?
I have no idea what's in the boxes, but they said 1990, so in the trash they went!
Hey, Fairfield Budweiser brewery on the TV! In a Budweiser ad, of course, but still, that's right down the road, I see their giant windmill every day and smell the roasting malt (or whatever they do to the malt, it's certainly fragrant) quite often.
My cats hide under the covers on the bed by clawing their way up the side of the mattress. Air or water mattresses are not an option. My mattress and box spring are probably 30 years old but weren't used much until I got them maybe 15 years ago. Yeah, that's somewhere on the list of things I need to replace.
And we have just discovered that instead of getting me the nice bottle of prescription ibuprofen from upstairs, my husband brought down the wrong pill bottle, so I took a dose of the wrong drug earlier.
Yikes, Dana. Nothing dangerous, I hope! Nor delaying the painkillers any further.
I think grocery shopping can wait until at least Wednesday. I can drink coffee at work, I know my parents will have some or will drive-through and get me a cup, and that's the only thing I'm actually out of.
Really need to get after those blackberries while there's light, though.
Oh, no, nothing dangerous. And fortunately for him, I can't hobble fast enough to catch and kill him.
He's a lucky man.
And fortunately for him, I can't hobble fast enough to catch and kill him.
Tim accidentally took the dog's Tramadol once, instead of his nighttime meds. That was the exact moment that (1) he stopped keeping his meds on the same lazy susan as the dog's meds, and (2) I told him he was never allowed to bring me pills; he could only bring me the bottle full of pills so I could verify it.
He did sleep soundly, though, thanks to the Tramadol.