I’m not a pack-rat. I swear.
After my divorce, I got rid of about 350 lbs.
225 lbs. of that was loser. The rest was crap. And I promised myself I’d stay as crap-free as I could. For as long as I could.
And for the most part, I have.
But I do like to keep little mementos.
Cards. Little gifts. Reminders of fun stuff. Things like that.
Fast forward about 10 minutes.
Here’s my computer area at my place:
Now, go take that 10 minutes back.
So, I’m sitting here after a long day of Halloween stuff at the office and I hear something. TV is on, so I just keep pecking away on the keyboard.
I hear it again. A scratchy, little something-is-in-the-vicinity-of-your-head-but-you-can’t-see-it kind of sound.
I have a gargantuan fear of something flying at my head, or slithering down the wall. Neither of which has ever happened. But they could.
(Once when I was like 19 and living on my own, I had to call my uncle to come get a big night moth off the ceiling of my apartment. See? This fear goes way back. I was hot enough to go out dancing till 2:30 am, but not awesome enough to get a huge-ass night moth off my ceiling. Imagine that.)
I mute the TV. Go back to pecking. But yet, listening.
Son of a gun…there it is again. I freeze. Hell, time freezes.
I look under the desk, along the baseboards, up to the ceiling…nothing.
Then something flutters RIGHT. BY. MY. BIG. HEAD.
I immediately start flapping and slapping at the sides my head.
I know. I don’t get me either. It’s just what I did, OK? Back off.
I can see it from the upper right…no, upper left corner of my eye or my peripheral stuff (whatever it’s called), but can’t react quick enough.
In slow motion…I dive. Off the chair, into the kitchen. All I know is there is something fluttering at me and I’m alone.
In fast prayer-mode, I pray it’s not like a bat. Or a crow. Or something that big that got in somehow.
I am pretty relieved and ticked at the same time.
That damn kickball shirt decal from that damn kickball game two weeks ago…fell off the wall.
(Thank you, Sweet Jesus. It wasn’t a bat. Or a crow.)
I don’t iron much. (Actually, not at all. Actually, I don’t own an iron. Actually, don’t judge.) So my decal didn’t stay stuck on my shirt. I had to use boxing tape to keep it on my shirt.
I know. Ghetto.
Anyway, after the game, I peeled it off the shirt and thought:
“Hmmph. I think I’ll just keep this as a little memento of the fun I had. And I think I’ll stick it right up there so I can glance up ever so often and remember how I
jacked up something in my right thigh muscle area had such a great time.”
And I don’t know why I felt it necessary to tell you about this. I just did. Because I know I can NOT be the only one who lives this grand of a life.
But I did stick it right back up from where it fluttered. Because it’s who I am. It’s what I do. It’s how I roll.
All scared and all.
Now. Halloween is on AMC tonight. I think that’s the channel. The original. And I love me some Michael Myers.
My DVR started up about 39 minutes ago.
So, go. Watch it, too. And be scared with me.
Michael Myers, I can handle.
A wanna-be bat or crow taped on my wall…not so much.