Recently I’ve reverted to dropping f-bombs like the old days of working in manufacturing car plants. Well, maybe not as bad as before, but I find great satisfaction in using this word to express myself. I know it’s considered vulgar and profane but it’s so FUCKING expressive. It gives just the uummph I want for emphasis!

For example, today Dick wanted me to juice some apples and carrots for him to drink. I love the juice but “I hate fucking making the juice” is what I said to Dick in a whiny, unmotivated way. This little added bit of emphasis expresses my great dislike juicing the apples/carrots.

My reason for disliking it so is because the machine is a BITCH to clean. I also find myself jamming as many pieces of apples and carrots as I can  because I’m lazy and I want this to be over-with as soon as possible. The result is that they get stuck and I have to exert all my energy into pushing them down with that “pusher-downer” thing. Hence juicing becomes quite the task!

After much goading by Dick and complaining about how early he had to get up to go to the car auction, I pity him and so I make the juice. Actually, I love him and I want him to be happy but I’m still lazy so I tell him to at least get the machine out (a Juiceman II)…as well as the apples and carrots from the fridge. I go on to say, “oh and don’t forget to cut the ends of the carrots and slice the apples”. We’re both laughing now because we both know how funny it is for me to be asking him to do this when he was the one who asked me to do it for him in the first place. He then tells me, as he usually does, how lucky I am to have such a cool husband who doesn’t expect me to do all these things for him. Of course, I always remind him how lucky he is to have me to do ALL that I do for him and how luck he is to have such a  wonderful, beautiful, intelligent and talented wife. And this time, I even added  “And I know many a men who would love to be my wife!”. Again we’re in hysterics over my air-headedness.

-Jane, Juicemaker