Narcissit? Who me?

Friday, July 30, 2010


To look at me you might not think it, unless you spot the shifty-ness of my eyes, but I scare easy. I am as frightened as an eight-year-old-girl most of the time, although upon perception you might think of me as just another tall-freckled-slack-jawed-idiot, which I am, it's just I am a tall-freckled-slack-jawed-idiot-scaredy-cat.

Speaking of cats....

I have not been sleeping well the past couple of nights (unless it is in a friends lap, happily snoring while Taylor Launter takes his shirt off ) and maybe it has something to do with the sleeping in, and the frequent napping, but more nights than one I have either stayed awake far too late, or awoke far to early. All problems when sleep is high on the list of "To-Do's" But today was different.

I had taken my allergy pill late yesterday, completely forgetting about it all afternoon, but still aware of the swelling that I was causing my left arm to look slightly more trunk like than I prefer. So when I thought of it yesterday evening, I took it. I was a little saddened when the swelling of the numerous bug bites began to go down, as I had a morbid curiosity as to how big it would actually get. But I digress. Hours after taking my pill, and with nothing left to do (save catch up on The Bachelorette) I curled into bed, eyes heavy with sleep and slumbered.

Until about 4am when the maniacal little elves that live inside my head, in what I imagine to be a little control room, decided to show up early and start work. Maybe there are performance reviews this months, or maybe they are on a deadline, but for whatever the reason, they switched the giant lever on the wall to "Awake" and there I was. It was 4:11am to be exact and I was as awake as I have ever felt. Wait... that sounded too cheerful. That sounds like some sort of revelation one would have at the top of a mountain after an early morning climb, oxygenated, and feeling your own insignificance in the presence of nature's beauty. Mine was more painful. It was more of a "What the hell? What is going on?" crusty, blurry eyed, shock.

Immediately I asked my Subconscious, the night watch man of the control room, what was happening. And because that little bastard loves to screw with me, even more than his little buddy Ego, he answered: "I think you heard something!"

GASP! Shock!

Alert and maybe only slightly woozy from taking too many medications on an empty stomach, I sat up, alert (to quote my favorite short story writer: "Ready as a yard dog!" ) I strained my ears to hear anything amiss in the sleeping household. Then... nothing.

I was wise to Subconscious' games. "I'm on to you, " I said. "You ain't scaring me none!"

And then there was a crash and a screech and then a rumbling sounds from the family room down the hall.

"Told you so," Subconscious muttered.

My heart was beating uncontrollably (Which is an odd expression because one is never really in control of cardiac rhythm) but still.

Making very little noise (ie. carefully removing myself from the bed without so much as the intimate rustle of sheets) my mind raced (the elves had made coffee) for something to defend myself and my household from the most certain invasion by some sort of homicidal burglar.
Reaching under my bed and seizing hold of a handle, I pulled out a silver tray in desperate need of polishing (because what twenty something young man doesn't have the collected parts of a silver tea service tucked under his bed?) Too late to whip out the Silvo, the polishing would have to come from the ass-whopping I planned on serving to the intruder. He would be sorry.

From the living room more hissing of a cat ( Surely Olive, so attuned to my senses, was also trying to fend off the attacker) notified me of the assailant's location.

Blundering into the room, brandishing silver tray, I flipped on the lights and came face to face with the intruder, with one (maybe two) surprises. He wasn't yet inside the house. Instead he looking longingly into my home, greedy eyes falling upon the bounty that was now lost to him!

"Scam Kitty!" I whispered furiously. And with that, and perhaps seeing that he was outnumbered (the other house cats has joined my side) the stray headed for the hills. Safe again, I returned to bed.

Except, You try falling asleep after you think you are going to be murdered. There is adrenaline pumping and your knee hurts because you hit it on the futon when you went running into the room. Then just because you're awake you decide you should really try and locate the password for that travel credit you have, because you want to know how much it is for, and you really want to go to vegas with everyone. And then you can't find it, and then you do find it, but you also find this essay you wrote for your sociology class and you read some of it, and then you go and lie on the couch, but then the sun comes in the east window and it is too bright, because who thought the sun comes up so early? So you go back to bed, but then you are hungry, and so you make toast. And Olive thinks it's morning and wants to go outside and you momentarily forget about the stray cat and you let her out and then rush out after her to get her, because damned if she is going to get murdered on your watch. So you chase her and she runs away because she is faster and has shoes (well cat feet) and you don't. So you get her treats and call her and shake the bag till she comes. Then you haul her inside and eat your toast and before you know it is is 9am and you are blogging about it, and you are already so tired!

Unemployment sure suits me.


Jenn said...

This is my favourite.

Daniel said...

You're my favorite! (commenter)