It happened. My worst nightmare. That thing of urban legends – that irrational fear I have had ever since I was a child. My hand was in the garbage disposal – oh you know where this is going – and it magically turned on. It was off. I made sure of it…three times…because I’m a psycho. I assume it’s everyone’s worst nightmare. If it isn’t you’ve thought about it at least once in your life. Turns out it’s not so crazy a fear because it happened to me and now I’m terrified of my own kitchen sink. I was attacked by an electrical appliance in my own home. I honestly didn’t even know I was capable of moving that fast. I have no idea how my hand doesn’t have a single cut on it. That seriously happened and GHOSTS ARE REAL and one OR MORE is living in here and stole my scissors and is trying to kill me. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE?!
It’s really the small things that count anymore. Simple manners make my heart soar. Finding the fastest grocery lane. Being able to turn left across four lanes of traffic without waiting. Smiles. When someone holds the door for you instead of letting it slam in your face while your hands are full. People who let you merge when some kind of idiot has illegally parked on the street during rush hour. Notes for no reason. Kind eyes. Texts that make your heart wiggle. Compliments with no expectations. I am at the point in my life where I’m just trying to find a pair of slippers that can also be worn in the public without too much scrutiny. Acceptable slippers. I’m on the hunt. That’s where I’m at. I’m a slipper seeker and a borderline narcoleptic who could fall asleep at any given moment. No joke. I’m a risk. I also used my straightener as an iron the other day and am now fully convinced I could win a season of Survivor. But bugs…ugh…
A fly magically appeared in my apartment from out of nowhere – a big one. I am not very good at dealing with “rodents of unusual sizes” im my abode. If it doesn’t belong in my apartment, I fixate on it. I couldn’t go on, obviously, until it had been handled and that is how I lost 23 minutes of my life on Tuesday. It was the most aggressive fly I’ve ever dealt with and when I finally got it trapped in my bathroom, it started taking kamikaze dives straight towards my face. At one point, and this is not a joke, it got so weird, I yelled OUT LOUD, “Dad? Is that you?” Living alone may or may not be making me a lunatic at rapid speed. So there’s a glimpse of what happens behind closed doors in apartment number 6! Just me running around talking to insects that I believe could be my reincarnated father. (send help) OR maybe I really am a Disney Princess. Maybe I should start working on THAT script. A girl who winds up in the city looking for Prince Charming and ends up alone with her plants and best friend who is a fly – just add a little magic. Coming to a theatre near you next fall. (I really am fine, no need to panic)
I currently have 45 jobs. I am writing, I am working at a wellness center, I do freelance and I occasionally moonlight as a private investigator. #fact My taxes are going to be heaps of fun next year (incorrect). My sleep schedule is whack-a-doo. Between jet lag and working odd and all hours of the night, my body is in full rebellion and planning an exit strategy. So in order to self care and use my resources, I’m taking advantage of some of the perks at work and I made an acupuncture appointment. The girl who is terrified of needles and doctors in general is going in for acupuncture. I’ll keep you posted on how that all goes down. I’ll try to keep it to a polite amount of screaming.
My neighbors never make smoothies but when they do it’s 5AM! I will say, they’ve been quiet lately which is alarming because it makes me feel like the BIG ONE is coming. Someone for sure is going to fall through the ceiling one day. Happy Halloween to all of you. My street is scary enough every day of the year – I don’t need any added shenanigans. My friend went out to her car and there was a man just standing on top of it. Totally normal. LA is weird. I don’t know know if people are dressed up or just living their lives. Speaking of which, I hope you’ve picked out the perfect costume. For all you ladies out there, I really hope you’ve integrated heels and fishnets into whatever it is you’ve decided to be this year..cause ME TOO. Palm to face. A sexy cactus. Sure – makes perfect sense. The look I am giving is somewhere between a Ron Swanson and a Mr. Foreman. I will say, tomorrow’s edition of ‘Walks of Shame’ is without a doubt the best of the year. I recommend a lawn chair and a case of beer. And, yes, that’s me as Bret ‘The Hitman’ Hart – my first crush ever. You’re welcome.