“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Tuesday, January 13, 2004

So I just got back from house/dog-sitting out at my Mom's place. It was great when I had the place to myself, but when they came home, they being my Mom and my little sister, it just went all to fucking hell.

Ordinarily I can't stand to be in the same room with the two of them for more than a half hour at a time, (after that my pulse goes for the goddamn land-speed record), but this day was different...

I was at thier mercy, as my car is in the shop again, so one of them had to drive me home. As they had driven all day to get home I decided to wait till the next day to leave. I just figured I'd sink into the hot tub, read a little more of my book (Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlen) and ignore the two of them screaming at one another. What could go wrong?

Well, the first problem is that the hot tub is in the master bathroom, and even though there is another bathroom, they have to have the 'good' bathroom open at all times. (Some of you may recall my post about not being able to take a shit in peace.) So, planning to hide in my old bedroom and read my book, I crept int the batroom to do what I needed to do for the evening, and get the hell out before they noticed I was in there.

It was there that I discovered what danger I was in.

I could hear annoyed footsteps coming up the hall. I knew one of them had discovered my violation of the sacred bathroom-temple. As I tossed a used q-tip into the trash and prepared to do my best Indiana Jones escape move I just happened to notice a tampon wrapper and a maxi-pad backing lying in the bottom of the can like a pair of crossbones.

I knew then that I was fucked.

Proper fucked.

The rest of the evening, as I'm sure you can imagine, was complete hell. I mean, they allways act like they hate one another, but this was madness.

Ever hear two people having a screaming argument over something and they're BOTH WRONG? The evening was a chain of these, though I didn't dare mention it. Any word from me, even a positive one, would mean that they might notice me again and decide that there was something I should be doing for them somewhere. No, the only course of action in these situations is to play dead.

Play dead... and pray for dawn...

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home