Joanne Palmer's Life in the 'Boat column appears Wednesdays in the Steamboat Today. Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org
Find more columns by Palmer here.
Steamboat Springs Note: Due to positive reader response, Stop the Brutal Whining products now are available at: www.cafepress.com/whining
This is a column about how my fantasy life awakens me each morning by singing in my ear: "My skinny lovely. Arise without stiffness or creaky joints and greet the day. Forget it is recycling day, there are piles of laundry everywhere and muddy dog prints to erase. Forget the price of gas, that Hillary won't drop out of the presidential race and a man (?) is pregnant. Arise, my gorgeous darling! Smell the freshly brewed coffee awaiting you downstairs."
Real Life: As my New York City sister poured herself a bowl of All Bran cereal a mouse plopped into her bowl. She e-mailed to let me know if she spiked a high fever to advise her physician she probably had Hantavirus. I respond with the following advice from my reference book, "Grandmother's Critter Ridder:" Mice are allergic to oil of peppermint. They will not frequent a property where they can smell it. If you put a few drops of oil of peppermint on a cotton ball and place it where you feel there is a mouse problem you will never see them again.
Fantasy Life: My sister calls to complain she is having a mouse problem. No problem, ma cheri! I send my private jet to whisk us away to spend a week at a full service spa in Maui, my treat. My personal physician examines her for symptoms of Hantavirus (nada!) and my personal masseuse kneads away any symptoms of stress this annoying rodent problem may have caused.
Real Life: I am lost. I wander around in an underground parking garage at a local hotel's liquidation sale. I look for the penthouse - a place I am convinced will have the creme de la creme, the best of the best this sale has to offer. I search for area rugs and while the penthouse does have one, I'm not really sure I like it. But now that I've spent all of this time finding it, I feel compelled to buy it. While waiting in the checkout line, a woman I have never met in my life carps:
"I thought $40 was too much to pay for that rug."
"It's $30," I retort.
"Oh!" she says, sneaking another look at the rug while the little Price-is-Right wheels spin in her mind. "I just bought 15 lamps."
Fantasy Life: I do not have to shop at oversized garage sales with long lines. The sales of my bumper stickers from cafepress.com/whining affords me the use of my aforementioned private jet. It whisks me to Persia. There, a personal shopper has preselected an exquisite collection of colorful rugs for me. All I have to do is point at one.
My personal masseuse will massage away any tension this trip may have caused me.
Real Life: I am at the grocery store stuck on what to make for dinner. Naturally, my grocery list is at home, and I have forgotten my eco-friendly shopping bags, as well. Earlier in the day, I vowed to make a big healthy salad but now, as I watch the swirl of snow outside the windows, I gravitate toward a premade meatloaf.
Fantasy Life: I come in from a long day of work. My valet parks my car and collects the packages I have in the car. My housekeeper greets me and tours me through my dust free house. Everything is organized. There is no clutter. The closet doors open freely. The freshly groomed dog already has been walked and is happy to see me. My personal chef has prepared a nutritious healthy organic dinner for my family and me. We sit around the dinner table and engage in a meaningful discussion of world affairs.
After dinner, my personal masseuse kneads away any stress the day has caused all of us.