Midnight in a Perfect World

In the bathroom in the middle of the night a creepy crawly with many legs skitters across the wall at the flip of the switch.  Sitting there pondering how to get rid of it I jump, thinking I saw another.  I brace my feet against the bathtub, afraid to put them down.  No question: it has to go. 

I look behind the door and there it is, hiding underneath a red washcloth emblazoned with a C.  I try squashing it through the cloth with my foot but I'm too timid.  It will have to be the vacuum.

I plug it in and connect the hose extension in my bedroom, so as not to startle the bug.  I hope it hasn't disappeared; I don't want it running around my apartment.  But it's still there behind the bathroom door.

I mercilessly suck up the offensive bug with the vacuum hose, and then clean all the corners of collected hair and dust to suffocate it.  Then, unwilling to chance that it might still be living, I vacuum the fuck out of my bedroom.  1:45 in the morning, and Suzy Homemaker is hard at work.

Once I finish vacuuming I'm faced with a dilemma.  I need to empty the canister, but it could still be alive in there.  It looked pretty tough.  I could flush it down the toilet, but I just cleaned it today, and what if it escaped onto my hand.  The trashcan in the kitchen is the other option, but again , what if it's still alive?  No, the only real option is emptying the canister into the dumpster outside.  I don't want that gross bug anywhere in my house.

Outside in my pajamas and flipflops I feel exposed.  I finish up as quickly as possible, shaking the dust trap to be sure the offender isn't clinging to the inside. 

When the deed is done I go back inside, put the vacuum away, wash my hands, and get back into bed.  My room is bug free, and I still can't fucking sleep.

Dream

I dreamt I came home and the door to my apartment had blown open.  I went in afraid that Zaphod had run away, but he was still there.  I comforted him, apologizing for my carelessness.  I was so grateful that he was still there.

Impulse Buy

I have realized that sometimes I try to get fulfillment from objects.  You might be wondering why it has taken me so long to come to this realization when you have known this about me for years and years...  What can I say, sometimes it's hard to recognize your own behavior.

Anyway, ever the bargain hunter, when I saw a sweet teal hutch thing on the side of the road on Saturday you can be sure I pulled right over.  Who doesn't brake for furniture on the sidewalk?

I don't quite know how to describe this piece, it's kind of like a china cabinet or hutch, except that it's the height of a bureau... I suppose it could go on top of a chest of drawers or something-then it'd really be a china cabinet. Because it's not quite just shelves.

It kind of reminds me of this obscure item I inherited, which perished in the flood.  We called it a kitchen queen, I don't know if that's accurate.  If I took my new thing and stuck it on top of something else it would look nothing like this.  So the comparison sucks.

There was a guy sitting on a crate in the shade, and when he said $40 dollars I jumped right on it.  I thought for sure this antique... Thing, would be maybe $70 or $80.  So I forked over my Jacksons, and had him help me put it in the back of my "station wagon".  Let's been honest: it's a Jetta.  It's the babiest station wagon you ever saw.  No self-respecting soccor mom would drive this thing.  Only hipsters like me who buy random pieces of street furniture on their way to rehearsal own cars like this.  So off I went to rehearsal then work, wondering all the while how I'd get this thing into my apartment. 

This is where it gets good.  Imagine me arriving home at 11:30 on Saturday night, and realizing I have to rehearse at 9am on Sunday morning in Mid-City.  Do I want to drive there with this rickety antique in the back?  Did I mention that on my way to work I was worried someone would stop short on the freeway, forcing me to brake quickly, and the Thing would shatter against my headrest, causing the glass doors came free of their supports and decapitated me?  Now do you think I wanted it in my car all day?

But I'm a strong woman, and so what if I don't live with a man anymore, I can do it by myself!  Picture me in my white button down shirt and black work pants, pulling this Thing by the top out of the back of my car, realizing there was no way to get it down with one pair of hands.  Picture me holding this Thing almost all the way out of the car, unable to shove it back in because it was weird and cumbersome.  Great idea Cat.  Great fucking idea. 

Luckily I had an roadside emergency kit standing by, and I was able to prop the Thing on top of it and ease it out of the car.  I'm sure that's what my dad had in mind when he bought me the emergency kit.  It's filled with useful items like flares and tire goo (actually I don't know what's in it because I've never opened it) and I used it as a support.  Good job!

Finally got it out of the car undamaged only to be faced with another dilemma.  Now it's in the driveway, and I can't pick it up alone.  A thought flashes through my mind-being forced to leave it out there all night and having another neighbor run it over in their early morning haze.  Great.

Just about this time, when I was at my wit's end, trying to shimmy this Thing to my door, a nice neighbor guy came and helped me.  My neighbors probably think I'm so weird.

So I've got the thing in my apartment.  I moved it over by the couch, and I realized that #1 it doesn't look right in the living room, and #2 I have no idea what to stick in it.  And I cracked one of the pieces of glass moving it around the apartment.  But if that's all the damage it received after it's trying journey I guess that's okay.  I think I'll move it to the other side of the apartment.  And by move I mean awkwardly drag it across the carpet.  I'll put pics up when I'm all rearranged.