Narrow Miss of Boogeyman Invasions
I may have admitted before, but I have a bit of an issue with my imagination. Just a small issue. Nothing debilitating. The problem really seems to flare up when Doug is out of town. Suddenly, there are werewolves in the vicinity, or possessed black cats. I have made more than one phone call to my parents when Doug is out of town and something scary has raised up my hackles.
Wait . . . I call my parents? Yes. I call my parents. I revert to my childhood self, and I call my parents. No. They don't live nearby. They aren't going to drive an hour and a half and come save me from my imagination. Are you wondering why I don't call Doug? Well . . . he's not exactly helpful in these situations. He brushes off my irrational fears. My parents help me make fun of myself, see the humor and unlikely event of Boogeyman busting in the house.
Last night . . . was one of those nights. It was the perfect night for the Boogeyman to come out. First- Doug is in Asheville, and the Boogeyman only comes to visit when Doug- the non-believer in such creatures- isn't home. . Second- we hadn't been home all day, so the Boogeyman had plenty of opportunities to hide out in or around the house and jump out at me. Third- we had a TREMENDOUS thunder storm, and while it wasn't still storming, it was still lightening and thundering in the distance. At 9:30, I started to take the dog out for her usual last potty trip, and when I opened the door . . . she refused to go outside. That has literally never happened. Our street is very dark, and with all the clouds . . . it was darker than usual. She stood in the doorway, looking back at me, and then a moth bumped into the roof of the porch and she tucked her tail and headed back in the house. Holy sh*$!!!! Something is out there!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let me give a little back story- my dog is a PANSY. She will protect me from nothing. I have no false illusions on this topic. I don't think she'll make a valiant effort under any circumstances to save me. Her only use is to alert me that something is scary, and that will hopefully give me a few minutes to prepare and save myself.
Now . . . in my rational, realistic head I know it was probably something like: a deer, the fox, a snake . . . we see all of those things on the regular. In my head . . . it was a serial killer stalking us, or it could have been a zombie. That crossed my mind as a potential situation, as well. I called my mom. She didn't answer. I texted her my troubles. I texted Doug. He responds back: "It's probably the weather." and I don't hear from him again until this morning to ask if it rained. (insert: massive eye roll). I had a motivating talk with myself, and got my machete ready. For real. I have a machete.
Last fall, we were putting in some sod, and Doug brought out his machete to cut the strips to fit. I LOVED using that machete. I felt so stinking cool. I joked about using it as my weapon of choice, if the zombie apocalypse happens. Andrew got me my own machete for Christmas. I decided to sleep with it by my bed. Sure . . . some of you sleep with a gun in your bedside table, or maybe a baseball bat . . . I sleep with a machete by my bed.
My mom called, we talked, I turned a few lights on in the house, normally I don't leave any lights on when Doug's not home, or even when he is. Last night- our house was lit up like the Griswald's. And . . . then I put the timer on the television and . . . fell sound asleep. Narrowly avoiding yet another Boogeyman Invasion.
Wait . . . I call my parents? Yes. I call my parents. I revert to my childhood self, and I call my parents. No. They don't live nearby. They aren't going to drive an hour and a half and come save me from my imagination. Are you wondering why I don't call Doug? Well . . . he's not exactly helpful in these situations. He brushes off my irrational fears. My parents help me make fun of myself, see the humor and unlikely event of Boogeyman busting in the house.
Last night . . . was one of those nights. It was the perfect night for the Boogeyman to come out. First- Doug is in Asheville, and the Boogeyman only comes to visit when Doug- the non-believer in such creatures- isn't home. . Second- we hadn't been home all day, so the Boogeyman had plenty of opportunities to hide out in or around the house and jump out at me. Third- we had a TREMENDOUS thunder storm, and while it wasn't still storming, it was still lightening and thundering in the distance. At 9:30, I started to take the dog out for her usual last potty trip, and when I opened the door . . . she refused to go outside. That has literally never happened. Our street is very dark, and with all the clouds . . . it was darker than usual. She stood in the doorway, looking back at me, and then a moth bumped into the roof of the porch and she tucked her tail and headed back in the house. Holy sh*$!!!! Something is out there!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let me give a little back story- my dog is a PANSY. She will protect me from nothing. I have no false illusions on this topic. I don't think she'll make a valiant effort under any circumstances to save me. Her only use is to alert me that something is scary, and that will hopefully give me a few minutes to prepare and save myself.
Now . . . in my rational, realistic head I know it was probably something like: a deer, the fox, a snake . . . we see all of those things on the regular. In my head . . . it was a serial killer stalking us, or it could have been a zombie. That crossed my mind as a potential situation, as well. I called my mom. She didn't answer. I texted her my troubles. I texted Doug. He responds back: "It's probably the weather." and I don't hear from him again until this morning to ask if it rained. (insert: massive eye roll). I had a motivating talk with myself, and got my machete ready. For real. I have a machete.
Last fall, we were putting in some sod, and Doug brought out his machete to cut the strips to fit. I LOVED using that machete. I felt so stinking cool. I joked about using it as my weapon of choice, if the zombie apocalypse happens. Andrew got me my own machete for Christmas. I decided to sleep with it by my bed. Sure . . . some of you sleep with a gun in your bedside table, or maybe a baseball bat . . . I sleep with a machete by my bed.
My mom called, we talked, I turned a few lights on in the house, normally I don't leave any lights on when Doug's not home, or even when he is. Last night- our house was lit up like the Griswald's. And . . . then I put the timer on the television and . . . fell sound asleep. Narrowly avoiding yet another Boogeyman Invasion.
Comments
Post a Comment