I feel like I am circling the drain, the events of the past few days SO not helping. Yet as I try to sort through them long enough to write something coherent all I can see is that damn spider on the diver’s side window surfing in the 65 mph breeze of east bound I-80. I was thinking 'what the hell, get off my car already.' And it’s thinking ‘what am I doing here?’ No, that was me too… Could some one please explain yesterday? My yesterday started a few days back when we ran out of coffee filters & started using the French press. It was also when chickens started turning into piles of feathers (maybe they apparated), when we let Beach watch prime time TV (can I get my hair cut like that?), and when the brother’s arrival for summer started to settle in on the household (how did this get broken?).
Then my friends came over because I wasn't feeling well. The bucket of kids free ranged. The adults boiled water & ate egg sandwiches.
They left. And I left for a run without looking up. In the same fashion I had not looked up when Beach said, “I saw the skunk but it is only this big mom, it’s a baby.”“Neat Beach
“Mom?! What did I just say to you?"
“That you are hungry?”
Some one call Family Services…
That part of the extended yesterday was great. Kilo & I took off under the warm sun heading for the nature preserve. And everything seemed perfect other than in place of my ‘I’m coming home’ song playing my head at the moment I turned home I keep seeing myself as a tall scantly clad male Kenyan running off through the desert towards a blazing setting sun- never to return. Like I said, I’m not feeling well.
Maybe skip Family Services and just call the doctor…
Then out of nowhere (if you weren’t looking up like I wasn’t) CRACK! Kilo dropped to the ground. The sky sounded like it had just ripped open or someone shot my dog with a cannon. Kilo’s drop drags me to a half squat half stumbled stop over him. I switch the leash into the hand of the broken uncast arm and the dog jumps up into a full sprint. So now I’m running home in a lightening storm through a golf course tied to a dog that is wigging shit over the thunder and the rain.
Visibility drops to near zero.
This is okay I’m laughing until we hit the bottom of my street & he gives an especially strong tug on the leash I hear my shoulder pop. Enough nonsense I reach down grab his little black face & start swearing at him in true Flying J trucker fashion... without looking up. When I ran out of swear words & started feeling stupid soaking wet standing in the middle of the road cursing out my beloved dog, what to my wondering eyes should appear? Mormon Missionaries sitting in the nearest parked car mouths open, maybe praying. Oh good just what I need. Hey guys you got that book you always carry around handy? I’d like to beat my dog with it.
And while you have the phone handy we should call Best Friends Animal Sanctuary to schedule a intervention.We make it home neither of us quite understanding the others behavior out there on the trail. Let’s never speak of it again.
The chicken killer is unmasked as a raccoon but Beach keeps insisting she saw a baby skunk and that she wants her hair cut like that girl on America
Okay I will settle for Family Services, Animal Control, a doctor, a hair stylist, and a Pizza Joint who deliveries…
The following morning I go to coffee with a friend who has been gone so he can tell me he’s going to be gone; this is logical. I come home and Beach has cleaned the entire house from top to bottom and made a salad for dinner; also logical.The boy with the real tattoo got a 3.9 and a summer job.
The other boy broke the arm off the chair at my desk.
Tattoos and hair cuts and broken things (hey it’s the Young Ones!)
The cats are sitting at the back door meowing which is adjacent to the open sliders leading to the deck. You open the back door staring out the already open hole feet away & the damn cats come back in through the open upstairs window to do it all over again.
I take Beach to gym. We pile in the car and hit the highway…with a spider on my window. Distracted driving does not accurately portray what happens when someone with arachnophobia drives with a spider in their line of vision.
Fuck it just call 9-1-1 and see what they can do…’There is this crazy lady driving on the freeway with a spider on her car!’
I tuck my bag with my running clothes under the group W bench and sit for 3 hours sipping grapefruit juice feeling very very very unwell. The nice lady from the front desk walks in, “Misty, you just got a call. Do you mind talking The Wild One home with you?”So Princess Tomboy takes the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and the Wild One to Studio Salon’s to see the Best Friend Hair Dresser (True Reflections), me in my running clothes them in their leo’s.
I pull in the driveway let the gym rats loose in the yard & Colby says, “You remember that skunk Beach says she keeps seeing, well, I was going to shoot it but then I saw how little it was so I picked it up by the tail instead.”
“What the hell do you mean you DIDN’T kill the skunk?!?!” I gasp. Then a knock at the door, I look over without looking up I see black shoes and black slacks. Oh thank god, The Men in Black are here! Why didn't I think of that?!
I look up, make eye contact with the terrified missionaries standing on my porch. I'm thinking 'please don't call my parents!' & seeing me again they're thinking, 'what are we doing here?!' And then I see the book. You know that book would have worked with the spider too. Maybe we should get one.
And that was my very long yesterday. I hope things start looking up soon…& if it doesn't 'who you going to call?'
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