Blood Rites

I had a day yesterday.  One of those fucking days.  It’s bleeding over into this day.

I’ll begin at the beginning, because I’m original like that.

1. It’s great to be a woman.  Normally, I’d say girl, or a lady, but frankly, I am neither of those.  I’m too old to be a girl, and I find that my demeanor and attitude rarely match that of a lady.  It’s been almost four years since my partial tubal ligation, my  i-don’t-even-know-what’s-going-on-with-that-ovary surgery, my so-you-think-you-can-fight-off -five-grown-adults-while-you-lay-in-a-hospital-bed party.  Since then, I have even more screwed-up red letter days than ever.  So imagine my surprise when I woke up surrounded by sharks:

I have a mad crush on completely cauchy. Click the photo to details on this amazing piece.

Since this happens once or twice a year, I am having a good time.  In an interest of being more *ahem* lady-like, I will refrain from my usual delightful description.  Let’s just say I’M QUICKLY FUCKING BLEEDING TO DEATH.  As a disclaimer, just because I don’t bleed once a month doesn’t mean that I don’t have all the other exciting effects including but not limited to:  debilitating cramps, becoming a garbage disposal, and possible demon possession.

2. Since my day started out so dramatically, I thought it was time for a pajama breakfast.  Pajama breakfast is where the kids and I pick up a fast food breakfast while still in our pajamas.  It’s fun for the kids and came to be solely from my complete and utter laziness.

I am THE mother.

Once we were home, I decided that we were taking the day off from school (BECAUSE I CAN) and we ate breakfast in the living room.  That’s when I heard it.

Three knocks.  From the kitchen.

Three hard knocks on what sounded like hollow wood.

Like my interior kitchen door.

To access the kitchen from outside of my house, you have to enter from either the deck via a steel and glass door or through the garage to the basement and up the stairs to the interior kitchen door.  So how was someone knocking on that door…from inside my house in my basement.  I did what any normal person would do:  I fucking ignored that shit.

For all of three seconds.  Then I heard a quieter tap, tap, tap.

I don’t know what I was expecting.

The kids looked at me and I stood up.  For no reason, mind you.  BECAUSE THERE WAS NO KNOCKING, GODDAMIT.  I walked slowly and quietly because you can hear every footstep between floors.  I was almost to the kitchen when I heard knock, knock, CRASH just in time to see my giant cat knocking a glass globe paperweight into the wood molding around my kitchen desk and then into the recycle bin.  FUCK THIS SHIT.

3. I thought having a day out would make me feel better.  The entire day was just completely off.

All day.

It’s a hard thing to explain without sounding completely insane, which I am.  But you might not be.  Just a feeling all day.  Something was…off.  I just now finished my post about my adventure in the outside, because that’s how yesterday was.  The kids and I went to Tae Kwon Do without incident.  Bought sherbet.  Ordered pizza.  Tried to ignore the day’s weirdness.

Then there was a motherfucking owl hooting at me when I took the dog out.

The day had me completely unnerved and bothered, and it wasn’t the kind of hooting you hear in scary movies… that hoot-hoot-hooOOot.  It was more like…screamy hoots.  I had the flashlight shining into the tree to try to catch a glimpse of eyes but thought it best to just scamper my ass quickly into the house.  I know, I’m stupid.  This is not news.

4.  So, at nearly 1 AM, I was pacing around, bleeding to death and anxious for no reason.  So I decided to read Summer Knight since it took almost a month to get it from the library.  I did take breaks so that I would not drown in my own blood.  I’m reading the Dresden Files in order.  I know I’m fashionably late to this game, but better late than never.  This has been my favorite so far.  I took a break from the series for a couple of months, but staying up all night talking, laughing, and crying with Harry Dresden was just what I needed.

Oh, Harry. I’ve missed you so much.

6 AM came quickly.  Every time I thought I’d go to bed, something else happened and I couldn’t stop reading.  I loved and hated how it ended–very abruptly.  I loved it because I know that the next one will pick up right where this one left off.  Hated it because I didn’t have the next one at hand to read.  

5. I fell asleep at about 6:30 or so and woke up at 8:30 in a pool of blood, encircled by vultures.

6. Am now dead.

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3 thoughts on “Blood Rites

  1. Pingback: Girl Stuff | chukichi

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