My Week Defined As A Bag Of Ice

It occurred to me today that the constant bag of ice in my freezer could be used to describe most of my weeks.

On Friday, Randy buys a fresh bag of ice. This might seem like a silly detail, but one of the things I love about a Friday night is coming home from work, opening the freezer, and seeing that big, unsullied bag of ice waiting to have a hole torn in it. The bag of ice represents freedom. The promise of hours not spent in a cubicle. It represents hope and love and all that is good with the world. Or am I attributing too much to a bag of ice?

Saturday and Sunday, the bag of ice isn’t bursting at the seams anymore, but there is still enough ice left that the bag seems endless.

On Monday, it’s starts to look deflated, but it’s nice to know this reminder of the weekend is still robust and ready to make my drinks icy cold. Also, enough ice has been removed that it’s easier to pull ice out of the ice hole and not have three or four chunks escape to the floor. Mostly, I pick them up and toss them in the sink. Sometimes, I just kick them under the fridge. Don’t tell Randy that, though, he’d be annoyed.

Tuesday and Wednesday, it’s just ice. I mean, the drudgery of the work week is in full swing and getting excited over ice is pointless. Just make my water cold, man. That’s all I care about.

By Thursday, the bag of ice is almost completely deflated and has the charm of a used condom in a grocery store parking lot.The bag only holds a few handfuls of frost that give beverages that piquant freezer burn taste. Yummy.

Then, Friday brings a new bag of ice and the promise of weekend fun. Or at least weekend rest. Which isn’t happening this weekend because we’re having a yard sale. Wish me luck. Momma needs a new roof.

I had a story on New Jersey Family this week. It’s about subtle little conversations which lead to your child becoming their own person –  When They Start to Say Goodbye…Prepping for an Empty Nest. The picture is Joey when he was 7 years old. I love this picture so much. For all that is holy, he was a beautiful child.

This week’s Dude pics find Dude acting extra ornery.

Memes:

 

 

32 Thoughts.

  1. GIRRRRRLLLL…more than any other singular thing, you NEED a fridge with an ice dispenser.

    … just sayin’…

    (cuz I’m drunk and drinking red wine – that which does not require ice.. HA!)

  2. We only buy ice when we are on vacation. Seriously! My home freezer (make it my TWO home freezers) have no room for ice, except on the walls (one is a manual defrost), and I don’t think there is a metaphor for that.

  3. I have an ice machine. One of those small ones that you put on the counter. That is the first thing I turn on in the morning. Even before the computer. Endless supply.

    I haven’t tried kicking the dropped cubes under the fridge. Yet. Would cause havok with cheap laminate floors. There is that damage deposit to consider after all.

    Life is a bowl of ice cubes? Fine. Make me a drink.

    Ice machine is full. I have to catch up on work this weekend.

    If I thought I could mail you some ice Michelle I would. Seems like you’re stocked for the weekend.

  4. I WISH ice was the only thing I kicked under the fridge!
    😉
    Happy Weekend Michelle, Randy, Joey, Dude, Bag of Ice and all Rage-M’s good peeps 🙂

  5. “When They Start to Say Goodbye” was beautiful. We were never able to have children, so have missed all the events others talk about. But truthfully, I’m just as glad to have missed the goodbyes. I don’t do stoic and stiff upper lip. I sob and cry and probably cling.
    I have a large tub filled with ice, and 6 (usually) ice trays going at once in my freezer. A bag of ice would never fit, but I envy you the fact that you don’t own or use an ice pick. In South Florida, you can’t buy a bag of ice & put it in a cooler for the car ride home before it melts into one large block of ice (requiring said ice pick and some creative cursing. Oh, and a few band-aids).

  6. I’ve been in my apartment almost a year (!), and I’m still thrilled to have an ice maker after decades of relying on ice trays. I totally get ice as a metaphor, because for me it’s a simple thing that is now easy after being a pain in the ass for years.

  7. I don’t use ice very much, as it hurts my teeth a little. Briana bought some ice trays at the dollar store that make little, round ice cubes (wait, they’re not cubes if they’re round, so what am I supposed to call them?)
    I used to have all manner of time markers built into my work-week, just to have little feelings of accomplishment and reminders that payday was getting ever closer…

  8. I’d take ‘Bag of Ice’ any day to describe my week. I was attacked by a pupil at the school I was working in, it was really bad. Have a broken bone and was bitten so had a jab I feel was unnecessary. Bag of shit really was the right word. Feel especially pissed off as have been trying to feel less of the victim type which I do due to my family history of narcissistic abuse. Hey, said the universe, take this if you wanna feel less of a victim. Thanks a lot, cunting Universe.

    Anyway, ice has come to the rescue for alcoholic beverages to drown my sorrows, and as pain relief on the bite.

    BTW, a great tip for freezing stuff for your Friday night drinky-poos is to slice lemons or limes and freeze them. For one, they last ages, otherwise mine just go mouldy. Plus they are so easy to add to your G and T or whatever your poison of choice is.

    I wish I had a snazzy fridge freezer with an ice dispenser.

    Anyway, made me laugh about kicking ice under the fridge. I can’t any more as ours is built-in, but I can under the cooker, which is a range and God only knows what horrors lurk beneath!! At least the ice will melt.
    🙂

    • OMG I am so sorry you were attacked! That is terrible! Here’s to healing quickly!

      We pulled our stove out to clean out behind it a while ago. It was fairly disgusting, but not as bad as I thought it would be.

  9. Our combination refrigerator/freezer has an ice maker/dispenser that is an asshole. The dispenser part doesn’t work–it just makes an annoying grinding noise because the ice at the bottom of the bin freezes together into a solid chunk.
    The only way to get ice out is to open the freezer and scrape a few loose cubes off the top, but there’s a huge glacier underneath that just sits there being useless.
    I’m sure there’s a metaphor for my life there but I’m trying not to think about it.

  10. This post is so good – that whole bag-of-ice-as-metaphor-for-your-week thing is just spot on. I totally felt your mood upswing that happens when you see that bag of ice waiting for you when you get home on Friday evenings. Isn’t it interesting how such small and seemingly insignificant little details can completely alter the whole big picture of our lives?

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