I’ve been living alone now for what seems like the length of a world war, & most times I’m completely okay with it. I had a roommate for a couple of months, but as it goes, she had to move on.
There is a definite freedom about being by oneself. I think that most people have it wrong however – I don’t run through the house naked. This seems to be the first thing that people think of doing when they’re not around people. That is never my impulse. Being naked is also being cold & I feel that someday when we cross over, my dog would probably talk to me & ask me why the hell I was not wearing clothes all the time. The best part about not having anyone around is there is no judgment about how many naps I take. I often fall asleep sitting upright & while watching movies. My dog is awesomely lazy as well & is usually sleeping right next to me. Then I wake up & dip remnants from my cupboard in ranch & nobody can judge me about that either.
There are times though, that I wish there was a dude around. But it’s only when it comes to certain tasks. I don’t mind taking out the garbage. I’m really good at driving the recycling out on the back of my car & I can light a corn stove like nobody’s business.
But these things – I despise these things with all of my gross insides:
Mowing the Lawn
Oh man, I didn’t even want to put this one down. I used to love mowing the lawn! I would strap on my cassette tape, (wasn’t there something called a walkman?) crank the Ace of Base & just cut that shit. It’s not the same anymore. Every lawnmower that comes into my possession seems to break or malfunction or is just one step away from being impossible to run. I have a vivid memory from last summer – – – I kept trying to start the mower & though it teased me just enough, it would inevitably die out & just smoke a little. I was by this time sweating profusely & swearing. I’m sure the swearing was even louder since I had headphones in. The neighbors surely saw me because not long after one of them started mowing the front of my lawn with his rider. Granted, he only did the front & never wore a shirt but I just went with it. I let the grass in the rest of the yard grow just until it was about ready to start growing other things & then I would do the whole pulling/sweating/swearing thing & get her all prim & proper again. There was a dead bird in there once but I just mowed a little circle around it.
Killing Small, Defenseless, Annoying but Cute Rodents
I can’t even tell you anything I hate more than this. It gives me itchy armpits. They’re either in the basement or the kitchen. Or both. I can’t handle it. I have left my laundry for days because I didn’t want to deal with the mice in the traps. If they would all just stay outside, I’d be ok with them all living. But their turds, my God their turds! They are everywhere. The poop makes me mad & then I go on a killing rampage . . . here is a very accurate drawing of what the last victim looked like. Normally their heads are stuck in the trap & I don’t have to look at their sad faces. But this guy, he died like this, eyes wide open & all:
Loading The Water Softener
If you’d like to see me in one of my most un-attractive states, come over when I’m ready to fill the softener up with some fresh salt. To watch me get the salt from my car, up past the deck, through the kitchen, down into the basement & then up & into the softener involves lots of grunting & frequent pauses for a breath. Multiply this times 3, because 1 bag is never enough. You may as well cook up a stew & sit a spell, it takes me a while.
When I’m not napping or watching a ‘Bones’ marathon, I’m probably vacuuming up box-elder bugs. It’s like they’ve decided to construct a Sandals resort in here despite the fact that they can’t swim for shit. They crawl on me in bed, try to kill themselves in the flame of my stove burner & seem to have a parade every day on my basement stairs. They are the main reason I wear slippers.
I say ‘snow blowing’ but I really mean ‘shoveling.’ If I owned a snow blower I’d be out there with Ace of Base & probably also down the highway & in the ditches as well. If I have to shovel any amount that my car cannot drive through, I will call into work. I figure it’s better than having a mini heart attack & letting the firefighters find me lying in the driveway with iced snot all over my face.
Have you seen that episode of Modern Family where they almost vomit when they pull the hair dragon out of the drain? That’s me. Instead, I just pour the most expensive & promising sounding cleaner down there & wait it out with a cocktail.
Speaking of vomiting, I think I’m done with this. I don’t really need a man around here to do this, I just need the dog to start stepping up & helping a broad out once in awhile. Instead, he barks at me when I dance & releases ass air under the covers. But I dig him anyway.
-a damsel & her dog-