Screwed

I finally did it!

I finally fixed my Roomba.

The Roomba robotic vacuum cleaner had become quieter. Its softer noise made us suspicious, so we conducted a paper test. The Roomba failed. Then I removed the collector, got down on the floor, and confirmed that the brushes weren’t turning. Bummer.

That was months ago. I began looking into repairing it, but then, I thought, maybe I should buy a new one. They were on special at Costco and seemed pretty damn attractive. The display models lacked the scratches and wear and tear plaguing my current beloved Roomba. The new ones had that great new Roomba smell, too.

I read reviews and comparisons, checked prices, and thought, and thought. Eventually, I decided the old one probably only has a couple thousand miles on it and deserved to be fixed. Besides, it now felt like part of the family. I reminisced about the time that poor sick Lady had decided she’d piss on the Roomba, and how you just need to pick it up to send Quinn through the pet door with a sonic boom. I wrestled with what I do with it if I got rid of it. Taking it to the Goodwill seemed wrong. I refused to even think of the landfill.

The parts, a new enhanced cleaning head (I don’t know how it was enhanced), purchased for $49 with free shipping, arrived yesterday. Three minutes later, the Roomba was repaired and making its rounds again.  The weird thing was that iRobot had sent new screws with the replacement part. I used them, which meant I had four perfectly good screws left over.

Perfectly good.

I’m like a compulsive scavenger. Whenever I have left over screws, nuts, bolts, or hardware, I add them to my collection. It’s a fine collection, begun when I first moved out when I was eighteen. At first, I integrated left over screws with others in my various drawers and containers. Then I began keeping them separate, with little notes. The notes had their original planned use and the date. That way, see —

I don’t know what was planned there. It was just an idea. What I’d realized was that most of the screws, bolts, nuts, and fasteners were too unique to be used elsewhere. Most of the time when a fastener was required, I’d go through the collection, testing their viability, conclude that what I have doesn’t work, and go buy new ones.

Having recognized this, I threw the four Roomba screws away. It required a lot of grit, opening the trash can, putting my hand with the screws over it, letting the screws go, and closing the lid. It took a lot of grit, and just five minutes, but I did it. I kept my eyes closed, though. I couldn’t bear to watch.

So that’s it. My days of being screwed are over.

Now, what do I do with the old, un-enhanced Roomba cleaning head? I could just trash it, I suppose, but I think I can make some room on a shelf. Because you never know when it might come in handy, right?

Kitty-go-round

Kitty-go-round (catfinition) – a pick-up game cats play that involves running in and out of doors in patterns developed as the game proceeds. Scoring involves quantum mechanics that only cats understand. One begun, the game is played until any humans present lose become impatient or lose their temper over the game.

In us: “The clowder began playing kitty-go-round just as Michael began watching Lost In Space. Rushing in the pet door in the bedroom, they dashed through the living room, and hurried to another door. When one was let out, another came in. The game ended after just four minutes, when Michael said, “Enough.” All the cats then sat down and gave Michael sullen looks that accused him of spoiling their fun.”

Floofish

Floofish (catfinition) – a cat who pretends to be another creature or fakes doing other activities to take advantage of others or a situation.

In use: “She was a little floofish, pretending to sleep when the plate of chicken was put out, but once she was alone in the room, she leaped up, grabbed a piece, and scurried away to enjoy it in private.”

Catch Up

Don’t you hate it when you keep writing in your head, and then sit down to write and discover that you have entire chapters completed in your head that need to be typed out?

Yikes. I like it that the muses are so active and engaged with me. That’s not the kind of thing I want to complain about (even though, yes, I acknowledge that I am whinging about it, right?) because I don’t want to insult them. You know how temperamental the little sweethearts can be. Speaking of which, does anyone have suggestions about what sort of thank you gifts muses like? Is there a protocol? Does Hallmark have a line of cards for muses?

Got my coffee and ass in chair. Time to type like crazy and try to catch up with the muses.

Incatpatible

Incatpatible (catfinition) – a person who doesn’t like or get along with felines.

In use: “The book club had one member who was incatpatible, so naturally she was like catnip for the house’s kittens.”

Napdar

Napdar (catfinition) – the extrasensory ability to immediately detect when someone is going to take a nap, a sense that’s extremely refined among house cats.

In use: “His napdar awakening him from his slumber in the guest room, Tucker rose and padded into the living room where Michael was just settling down to take an afternoon nap, and settled his massive feline body on the human’s inviting belly.”

Malacat

Malacat (catfinition) – a feline who doesn’t seem like one, exhibiting behavior more associated with other species.

In use: “Living in a house with four dogs, Spunky soon became a malacat, chasing squirrels, eating with messy gusto, and running with the pack.”

Olifloofchy

Olifloofchy (catfinition) – a clowder in which a small group of felines exercise control for selfish reasons.

In use: “The clowder wanted to play but the olifloofchy gave warning looks, and all the cats remained still, waiting for the next event.”

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