There just isn't anything interesting or exciting going on in my little world right now. The Summer hockey season ended and the Fall Season hasn't started yet. TheManTheMyth hasn't had much work for the last few months so he's been home WAY too much and is totally screwing up my daily routine. TheManTheMyth has this alien idea that I should be doing something at all times and his idea of "doing something" and MY idea of "doing something" are two entirely different things.
Does he not realize that I can spend HOURS on the computer, being entertained by websites like this? Or this? And let's not forget this. And if that's not enough, I also have a 100 level game of Shanghai that is totally addicting. I'm on Level 84 and I don't know what's going to happen when I conquer Level 100. Guess I'll find out. Wait a minute. Yesterday, I was on Level 80. How the hell am I on Level 84? Oh yeah, Thing 1 is hooked too (along with Thing 2. Drives TheManTheMyth crazy) and he probably got his fix last night when I was watching "Big Bang Theory" (funniest show in the world right now).
TheManTheMyth's idea of "doing something" involves labor, cleaning products, some sort of tools and actually using these items. I don't know how many times I hear, "Get off that goddamn computer and DO SOMETHING!" It's really, really working my last nerve, I tell you.
So yesterday, I decided to "do something" to shut him up and went to work on cleaning out my office, which needs to be done quarterly because it fills up with everyone else's crap that they don't want to keep in their rooms but won't throw away because they *might* need it so they just drag it in my office and then complain that my office is a mess and why don't I get off my ass and clean it or something instead of spending all day on that goddamn computer.
And it was while I was cleaning out my office that I found a locked box (no key) and I felt that I would not continue to function until I found out what was in that locked asbestos-insulated, fire-retardant box. There was stuff in there; I could hear it when I shook the box. So I asked TheManTheMyth if he could drill out the lock:
We opened it up and there were a bunch of papers and a couple of boxes. The papers were mostly receipts and letters regarding my great-grandmother's estate but it was the boxes that were the interesting stuff.
Yeah, it's a bit fuzzy but that first word on the bottom line says "Morphine." There were 20 ampules of morphine in that box:
50 year old ampules of morphine but morphine nonetheless. Where's Jacqueline Bisset in her wet t-shirt is what TheManTheMyth wanted to know.
So I'm like, "Whoa" and TheManTheMyth is like, "Dude" and Thing 1 is all, "I need money!" which is his mantra, and Lucy is all, "Hello?! Who's taking me to the park?" and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with this stuff. I'm allergic to morphine so sampling the wares is out (I kid! Not about being allergic to morphine but the sampling the wares part).
So not only do I need to find out how to properly dispose of antique morphine but also an asbestos-insulated lockbox that is now sans lock because it's not like I can just toss everything in the recycling bin. Because that would be wrong.
Anyone know the street value of antique morphine?
I kid! I kid!
Sheesh!
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