This has nothing to do with kink, but then again, neither does half of what I post here. You’re used to it by now – or you just got here and you don’t know what to expect, in which case, you won’t be surprised.

So we went to buy an oven. Because we are moving into our new house soon and the current oven is 1970’s original and I’m afraid it might be possessed. Or prone to electrocuting people. More the latter than the former, if I’m to be honest.

We were in the store and then, in the middle of all these fridges and dishwashers and things of that nature, I completely forgot what we were there for. I knew we were there for a box shaped appliance of some kind, but I couldn’t remember its function or its name. Fortunately my boyfriend knew. He’s like a satellite brain, holding all sorts of interesting information, like where we are going, and why we are going there.

Anyway, so we found ourselves an oven that seemed to suit our requirements and then we went and purchased it and the lady said “That will be $1200 exactly.”

And then the little eftpos machine came up and it said “1199.99.” And then I had a ‘what sorcery is this?!?’ moment in which I demanded to know why there were so many 9’s and what they had done with the 2 I was expecting.

I vocalized this and was swiftly reassured that it was all correct and in order. So now we own an oven. And I’m a little less certain about my brain. I think it is stress. In moments of stress, the human brain is programmed to think about things that matter, like writing more Lesbia, and omitting less important information, like what an oven is. It makes sense.

This is an oven. (For the author’s reference.)