toofresh

At this point I'm just writing for the sake of writing. I have this thing where I know I should be productive and do something of great import, but I delay it thinking, "Another day I'll get some kind of better inspiration which will eliminate the risk of any wasted effort." Today was one of those days which I hoped would be incredibly creatively productive since it is the first Saturday I've spent entirely at home in weeks. The only two things I accomplished (it's 11:52 as of this writing) are getting my hair cut and washing a couple of loads of clothes.

Before you discredit me for my laziness, I'd just like to toss out there that I hadn't had a hair cut in nearly 2 months and my clothes have been lying in a pile in my room for half that time. Okay, not really.
...
Okay. Kind of really.

So, in that light, it was a fairly serious couple of accomplishments, I do believe.

The phone just rang.

Once.

Never underestimate how unsettling it can be to have a phone in your house ring just once at 11:55 in the evening.

I could imagine close to 1,000 different sinister scenarios that could be behind that phone ringing, but in the interest of saving time and reducing your perception of me as the paranoid type, I shall only describe one.

Ahem.

A crazed crack-head with a knife sees the house and thinks it looks nice enough to be worth breaking into. He plans for three days how he will do it. First he stakes out the property, taking note of all the entrances, who drives which vehicle, and when we will be most vulnerable to a crazed crack-head knifing attack. After determining that time to be exactly 11:55 PM, he takes the home number from the phone book and lurks in the shadows with his safelink cell phone, then gives us a ring. We are unnerved by the phone call but it distracts us from - THE BATHROOM WINDOW DOWNSTAIRS. He crawls in through the window and makes a B-line for the room in which I sit. Like a trained ninja, he hurls a throwing knife at me. The resulting struggle is later referred to in the papers as "The Four Oaks Crazed Crack-Head Knife Butchering of 2009." 37 people, four squirrels, and roughly 3,000 mosquitos show up for my closed casket funeral and burial service.

Of course, I'm not serious.

I am, however, checking the locks before I go to bed.