Sunday, March 16, 2014

A Long Post For a Wasted Sunday ...


Some days you just can't win.  There comes a point when you just have to cut bait ... because you realize the whole day is just going to be a wash.

I didn't sleep well at all.   Several days ago, I made a few calculations ... things I could do to save even more of my severance money.  Things like, for one, stop leaving so many lights burning all night long.   Feeling secure is one thing ... getting a $150 electric bill in the dead of winter (when you own a gas furnace) is another.  So I turned off all the lights downstairs.  I also turned the furnace down to 65 ... thinking I'd just be swaddling under blankets anyway.  I'd learn to toughen up ... besides it would be spring soon anyway.

Well, the weather got cold last night ... terribly cold ... and the wind howled under the eaves.  I was cold ... I couldn't sleep ... and I couldn't go downstairs to change the thermostat.  Why?  Because I turned off all the lights and it was dark down there.  Sigh ... the best laid plans of mice and men ...

So I was up and down all night.  My neck hurt from being so stiff when I slept. They I woke up early ... despite the lack of sleep.  I was tired and achy all morning ... although I did put the furnace back on 70.   Spring can't come fast enough ...

Anyhow, I watched a few episodes of House of Cards ... when I found I couldn't keep my eyes open.  I was so sleepy it was almost painful.  So I paused Netflix ... pulled my heating blanket around me ... and fell into a deep hole.

I woke up two hours later in a complete panic.  I'd had a horrible nightmare.   It was so horribly real.   I had been living an episode of True Detective ... spoilers, by the way, if you haven't seen it.

It was after the finale.  I was inside a dark, seedy bar trying to tell Rust that there were more killers ... and I knew how to get to them.  Rust was sitting at the bar ... not turning around ... not looking at me.  Marty was holding me back saying, "He's seen enough shit in his life ... he doesn't need any more."   He refused to let me talk to him ... and I was frustrated.  But I left ... and instantly found myself in one of my old apartments.

(It was the apartment I lived in when I met the girls.  All in all, it was a nice, simple apartment ... the entire second story of an old house.   If I had to go back to living in an apartment, I could do worse than to live there again.  It was a great setup ... the first floor was rented by a state congressman from up around Chicago.  He was only there when they were in session and he was in town ... which was infrequently.   Nice guy ... one day he thew a "garden party" for members of the state congress.  Our  large backyard was filled with dozens of important people ... and a handful of caterers and wait staff.  When everyone left, he knocked on my door and offered me a big tin of leftovers ... and apologized for not asking me to come down and join them.)

But I digress ...

I walked up the stairs into the apartment thinking ... "Why am I back here?  Do I live here again?"  And noticed, somehow, that things had been moved.  There was a cup sitting on the kitchen counter ... the TV remote was laying on the arm of the couch.  Things weren't as I left them.

I stifled a scream when I heard the door of the walk-in closet in the bedroom slowly squeak open.  I ran down the steps ... trying to move quietly.  I ran to hid behind my neighbor's car that was parked in their driveway next to mine.  I saw a shadow on the porch ... someone was coming.  Suddenly the neighbor's door flew open and they stepped out of their house.

There was a group of people.   I tried to make a joke out of it ... I had dropped my keys and they skittered to their side of the driveway.  I think they went under their car.   They told me to come inside ... it was getting dark and they would get a flashlight.  All I could think was ... "Just let me get inside and I'll be safe.  Let me get inside and I'll call Rust and Marty!"

We'd just walked inside ... and before I could tell them I was scared there was a knock at the door.  A man was standing there ... he claimed to be working with the utility company.  The neighbor opened the door and invited him inside and my mind screamed, "NO!  It's HIM!  I'm TRAPPED!" 

They stood there and made small talk about the electrical lines in the neighborhood being old.  He was turning to leave ... when he turned back around and pulled out a gun and began shooting everyone.  I dropped to the floor behind the couch ... several people fell around me.  I heard screams and I kept thinking, "PLAY DEAD!  DON'T MOVE ... PLAY DEAD!"

I woke up gasping ... drenched in sweat ...

The wind has died down ... but it's four o'clock and it's almost time to take a shower, get dinner, and start putting stuff together for work tomorrow.   It's been a good weekend.  I'm not really complaining.  There are just some days that you have to write off as a wash.  Between last night being so uncomfortable and that nap I just had?   Yeah ... let's call today a wash. 

On the other hand?  I may need to re-evaluate my enterainment choices.   Watching the Conjouring Friday night ... and listening to the audio book of IT all week long ... and watching 28 Days Later before falling asleep last night?  I think it's all catching up with me.  I know I should watch something happier ... lighter.  But come eight o'clock tonight?  I'll be watching Walking Dead ... and dreaming of zombies tonight ...

All you zombies hide your faces,
All you people in the street,
All you sittin' in high places,
The pieces gonna fall on you

Hooters - All You Zombies

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