Surprises

While I gave myself the charge of writing out what my short/mid/long term goals might be: anything from getting off the crack fries to finish your blog novel… I decided to procrastinate and tell you about three surprises.

One: that I shifted from an INTJ (mastermind personality) to a ISTJ (inspector- which seems much less like me but). I find the shift unsettling. Either way it indicates I should not be an artist, and am not living up to my full potential as a human being. I am forlorn.

Two: I sat into the late night hours at my desk surfing the net. I realize it would’ve been more romantic had I been scribing a passionate love note, a heated stinging retort but nothing of the kind abounded and I’m going for boring dead as doornails realism right now. My window was open, ushering a warm breeze and the smell of distant smoke. I noticed movement on the wall and not 6 inches from me, brazen, lightly trod a big fat shiny black widow against my deep purple wall paint. It’s sharp pinned legs glossed and deadly looking. Eyes wide I drew my chair quickly back and the spider vanished. I got a stick, a cup, paper and lifted up my curtains. Looked down and saw it was trying to make an escape toward the floor. I would not dare to bring my flip-flopped foot near it. I filched it up in a cup. Locked it down with paper, which I could imagine it trying to burrow its venomous way thru and thus into my hand, quickly harrowingly ensconced it in a jar and showed the tale to anyone in the house who would listen. 6 INCHES! I say. It is a wonder actually given my urban farm that we’ve never been bitten before. I confess I find one every few months. I know their webs well and where they like to live. Method of killing I prefer is sprayed by toxic substance, followed by covered unviewable squishing when outside, then drowning. But this one! Climbing up my own wall! The nerve!

THREE: last night I squirmaly sat in my friends papazan chair watching the Office then Scrubs. I dashed out to make it home for L/O: CI and in my quick pace thru the barrio I hit the lights on my car, then closer hit the lock. I hopped in my car and jumped as I heard a small tap at my passenger window. I looked over at a small boy, with his little tapping fists talking to me thru the glass. I buzzed down the window. “Yes?” “ Hi, hi,” he said, excitedly, “How did you turn on your car from so far away?”

By then his older brother was at the car, in the shadows, curious. The boy turned wide-eyed to his brother and exclaimed that I had the power to start my car, motor vrooming from a distance. I explained that it was just a sensor, and that it didn’t start the motor, but just turned on the lights. “Cool!” the boy exclaimed. I fought the urge to explain also that he shouldn’t approach strange vehicles in which he was enamored with and that I could be a bad person and his life could be in mortal danger. He continued unabated, his imagination sparked with possibility. He said, “Well I… I… I like your thingy.” His arms drew back in a wide breadth of awe. “Thanks,” I said, and the boys stepped further back onto the sidewalk. “I like it too,” I yelled out the window, racing away into the night, laughing at the surprise and wondering why they weren’t in bed. I mean it was already 10:08…