I Can't Win

Yee Gods Almighty... Has it really been almost a week since my last post? I suppose I should probably write something so people don't think I died. Or maybe I shouldn't... it would certainly cut down on my phone bill...

Last weekend was an SCA event over in WFABFE (Way Far Away Bum Fuk Egypt). After a six hour drive that was supposed to take "3 1/2 hours" (per hubby, that is), we rather crankily arrived at the new site of the event. A giant stretch of flat land with absolutely no trees. It's 90+ degrees, the sun's going down, there's no shade and we have to try to set up a tent, a carport and a pavillion. And all with our ever-so-sunny dispositions up so high.

Hubby lays out the truth - "I'm hurty and crabby. Let's just get this sh** done." I go about doing the usual - setting up the tent (it's my tent and I'm very anal about setting it up). I do this not only because I too am crabby and hurty, but mostly because I simply want to go to bed. Hubby goes to set up the carport and enlists a few unlucky stragglers who happen by to help.

I get the tent up and start grabbing things from the car. I'm tired and sweaty now. I ask Hubby where the air mattress is. He responds with a distracted "In a tote." I glance around at the still unpacked trailer and pile of goods next to the trailer, most of which is a giant pile of... yes, you guessed it... totes. I decide to go for the one that is the easiest access. I luck out.

I grab the air mattress, the air pump and the extra set of batteries. I go into the sweat lodge now known as my tent. I spread the air mattress out in the appropriate spot and start to attach the air pump. It feebly starts up with a rather reluctant whirr.

"Screw this." I think and decide to change the batteries before I even really get started. The sun is now mostly down and the temperature has not dropped a bit. Sweat is running into my eyes and now the brand new flashlight I bought on the way up is starting to dim - damn batteries - and I don't have any fresh AA's.

In the fading light (both the sun and the flashlight), I pop open the battery compartment of the air pump. Like one of those 'snakes in a peanut brittle can', four D cells come flying at my head. I wipe more sweat out of my eyes and whip all four batteries at the far wall of the tent, then open the new pack. I pick out four fresh batteries and suddenly realize that: a) I didn't look at which way the batteries were originally in the compartment (as if I had a chance, mind you), b) there is no diagram telling me which way to put them in and c) if I don't get them in there soon, I may as well shove them up my bum for all the good it's gonna do me.

I am, at this point, seriously contemplating sleeping on the ground. To which my back, already screaming with sciatica, gives a resounding "No!" flash of pain. I fumble with the batteries and guess. It takes me about five minutes to get the damn cover on. I try the switch. Nothing. I open the compartment again. I manage to find the four batteries that have just sprung out at me again. I try to remember which way I just tried to put them in. I remember. I try a different way. I struggle for 10 minutes to get the cover back on. I try the switch. Nothing.

It's at this point that I step out of my tent for a breather. I walk over to where Hubby is diligently screaming incoherently at people and sit down. Somehow, everyone else's misery makes me feel a bit better. Besides, there's a breeze starting up.

I go back into the tent. After searching for the batteries again (those springs in that compartment must be really good!), I get them configured a third way. The sun is completely down now, but that hasn't help the temperature. I struggle for a good twenty minutes to close the cover of the compartment (cover askew, batteries pop, search for batteries, cover askew, batteries pop, search for batteries, repeat). At this point, the flashlight has seriously dimmed. I fairly positive a wet sparkler throws off more light. I flip the switch. I hear a strong whirr. I smile.

Now, have I mentioned that I have night blindness? I feel around for the flat peice of vinyl that is my air mattress. I have given up wiping the sweat away and simply decide to watch the waterfall as I bow my head. I find the air mattress but darned if I could find the blow hole. In different circumstances I would be wishing for flour while I slapped away. I find the blow-up hole and get the pump attached.

I step out of the tent again and wander over by Hubby. The carport is now up and everyone is huddled underneath it, commenting on how nice the breeze feels. Hubby is drinking a cold beverage and his mood is beginning to lighten. I ask Hubby where the pillows and sleeping bags are. "In the car." is his response. I look over to the car where practically nothing has been unpacked, knowing full well that my sleeping bag is completely buried. It is at this precise moment that I realize I forgot my pillow. "Screw it," I think, "I'll deal."

In the slight distance I can hear my air pump beginning to strain against an almost full mattress. I go back into the EZ Bake Oven that is my tent and cap off the blow-hole and set the pump in an accessible area of the tent in case it deflates a little before I am able to finally go to bed.

I emerge from the EZ Bake Oven one last time to ask Hubby to help locate/unbury the mock-bedclothes. He looks at me and says, but we haven't even set up the bed yet. "Yes I did." I respond. "Where?" he asks. "In the tent." I reply as calmly as possible. "You set up the tent?" he asks. I simply point to where, sure as sh**, my tent stands. I ask him - for my own information - mind you, "Where the hell do you think I've been this whole time?" He pauses, obviously realizing that he hadn't thought of that in the bustle of things, and says, "Well I figured we'd sleep in the carport tonight. That's why I was trying to get it up so quickly."

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

Communication is, quite obviously, not my marriage's strong point.