It could be the upcoming change in seasons, but lately I’ve experienced a series of disturbing events that make easing into a purposeful post difficult. Instead you get to feel uncomfortable with me. Obviously, what I need is a sanctuary. I’d even settle for a tree house.
Dear reader, I’ll just get to the point. The other day, I woke up to maggots on my kitchen floor. Not what you were expecting? Me, either. Imagine my shock when I saw these mealy, wormy maggots, curling and unfurling, and standing up on their own. These creatures from the nether world had invaded my kitchen. I felt disgusted and dirty, and wanted to bleach and scrub everything out of existence. Maggots are unsettling to me and unwelcome in my house. This is no way to start the day either. Are you feeling grossed out? I hope you weren’t eating anything.
How could this happen? I recalled that a few days before I had a tossed a bag of rancid potatoes into my garbage. Big mistake, as I should have thrown them outside. I cringe at the thought that I almost used these potatoes in my beef stew. Luckily, I had my senses about me, took one whiff of their foulness and tossed them outright, even though I just bought them the previous day at the discount grocery superstore, the same store where I sighted moldy cheese on the shelves. I’m not shopping there anymore.
Now I must purchase a new trash can, as the other one cannot be recovered, and avoid the outside trashcan at all costs until trash day on Thursday, which couldn’t be here fast enough.
Later that day, I talked to my mother who had just undergone a surgical procedure in which she shared an upsetting story about the medical care she received. She told the hospital staff that the anesthetic they wanted to give her had not worked in the past. Instead of listening to her, they gave it to her anyway. So, she spent of the remainder of the procedure feeling a lot pain she shouldn’t have experienced, among other things that went wrong. In this case, the healthcare system failed her by simply not listening, casting her off as elderly woman who doesn’t know better. My mother had been a practicing nurse for over forty years. Do you think they could have at least had the decency to listen?
On another note, increasingly my seven-year-old son dreads going to school, hates it, in fact. I didn’t feel this way about school until at least high school. Why is this happening so early? What action do I need to take to keep him on track? I have this feeling I must turn it all around now, today.
At the end of my evening, I turned on my kitchen light to see our pet hamster, Little Claws, being chased by two of our cats. Why wasn’t he in his cage? Who left him out? And, here I thought they were all friends. Now, I will never trust the cats alone with the hamster again. I nearly had a dead pet on my hands, mauled to pieces. No, thankfully, this didn’t happen.
It’s both heavy and light, but everything unsettling. I’m writing a creepy story and maybe I can tap into this. I’m waking up at 5:00 am to write in the quiet of the morning when I am alone with my thoughts and have not yet spoken to anyone. It’s a treasured time, although a little foggy, but I think the closest I have to a sanctuary.
Maybe what I need at a time like this is a nice bouquet of flowers. Here’s a pleasant thought. I don’t even care that the cut flowers are slowly dying, slowing dying in a vase, and if neglected, may result in a lot of muck and bugs. On second thought, I’ll pass. I think I prefer the smell of bleach.