You Saw My Blinker Bitch











{March 23, 2010}   Scents and Nonsensibility

Ah, Monday morning. How you come so quickly. How you remind me that the looming deadline for me to vacate my residence is ever closer. Fuck off with that, already. Seriously Monday. Seriously.

Right now, a bomb has gone off in my apartment. Or that’s the way it looks.It’s echo-y, what with the hardwoods no longer having anything to buffer the sound upon. It’s eerily quiet what with the three TV’s and two computers and various radios all disengaged from power sources and strewn about waiting for it’s next temporary spot. You see, I’m quite organized, it just takes me a while to get there. My son completely hates it and can’t follow me fast enough to keep up. This, along with the fact that he’s hitting puberty and all hormone driven and I am me and always filled with the hormones, is the major reason we argue. One, but generally both, of us is bound to end up in tears.

Let’s back up to Saturday, or packing day #1. I mean, I’ve got to be out of this place in a week and nothing is done. What to do? Rather than methodically go through every room in the house, carefully packing and organizing my shit, I haphazardly bark orders to friends and family on what should go where and so on. I’ve got one friend who shows up to take some stuff off my hands and I haven’t even cleared off anything. Another friend clears that off while I wander around aimlessly and tell my son to do something. Probably to SIT DOWN, SHUT UP. Or give Mama a hug. One or the other. I think I asked (or told) another friend to do something that I probably didn’t explain at all but expected her to understand. It likely didn’t get done. That’s the way I operate. This means the poor stereo that I’m not even sure yet is worth making the trek to storage has gone from it’s spot in the kitchen, to a different spot in the kitchen, to the floor of the front room, and may make it to my room yet before the decision process is over. Why? Like I know. I mean, I do know that there is reason in there somewhere, just not one that I can explain or articulate in any sort of manner that would make one understand my whacked out logic. Whatever.

I know where in the long run things need to go – storage, Goodwill, trash – but the path these things are taking to get to said destinations is a wicked funky one for sure. I just noticed a pile of shoes on the floor that I thought was all Goodwill, but realized that my prized slippers are in that pile so now I have to figure out just what I did there. I’ve got three bins full so far of papers and odds and ends that need to be sorted out. Most of which are probably old Panda Express receipts that I swore I would call into the survey to get that $5.00 coupon code.  This stuff all needs a home, and it’s my job to get these things there, wherever it’s there is.

Much like the scattered paths that things are taking, there are scattered smells going on in this place that are making this already relentless task even more, shall we say, enlightening. First off, I have these two wonderful cats. Ok, that’s a lie. Only one is wonderful. The other is marginally ok. At any rate, these lovely fur balls like to do things like pee in the bathtub when they are angry with me and vomit under beds. I found a crunchy yakked up fur nugget under my bed as I was disassembling it. YUMMY! So I wake to find piss in the bathtub (stinky), barf in the front room (slimy and smelly), and that one of the two decided to take a monster shit and not cover it in the box (wretched awful smell). Then of course what move doesn’t have it’s fair share of dust flying around (don’t even tell me you people actually dust your shit, because really, who the fuck has time for that) which leaves a nice musky odor to the air.  Lastly, because I was waiting on some Craigslisters to show and couldn’t leave the house I ordered a pizza with the money I scammed, er made, from a prior sale and now I’ve eu de Pizza Hut lingering in the air. No amount of window opening will save my olfactory glands tonight.

It seems that there was some tie-in, ending thing-y that I was going to plunk down as the moral to my day and story here, but alas my brain only has a loop of The Bad Touch going on and nothing more. Must mean sleep deprivation has grabbed me full throttle.

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swilkes says:

Hey there. I somehow missed your announcement of this blog, but there it is on your FB info page. I’m all caught up. Now blog some more!

p.s. why am I awake at 4am?



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