Dawn's Digression.
Monday, August 11, 2003
I am bushed, beat, tattered, and torn.
On Friday, a huge limb fell off our pecan tree. This doesn't sound so bad, does it? Yeah, except that the branch hit our birdhouse on a pole and knocked it down, killing at least one birdie in the process. I have no birdhouse. I loved that birdhouse. And then we had rain. I wondered where all the birdies that had been living in the birdhouse went. Poor birdies. Besides that, we now have a giant branch in our backyard...still attached to the tree. We don't own a saw. Michele wants to call someone and have them trim down all the trees so it doesn't happen again. Also, our backyard is now missing some wonderful shade.
It feels great to finally be out of that duplex. I hated it. Everything about it. It was really unbelievable that I agreed to move in there with her. But it's okay, because it is over now. My commute is longer. So long, in fact, that I pass THREE Super Wal-Marts. THREE. That's a lot of distance. I got myself one of those fancy tolltags, and I feel like a yuppie. I mean, really...I actually PAY to drive on a road when there is a perfectly acceptable road I can use for free? Yes, yes, I do. Because I abhor the whole LBJ/75 construction area. It's just awful. The traffic is bottle-necked and it's congested. But I can take George Bush, and no problem. No congestion. I can drive 70. That's what I like, right there.
We still aren't unpacked. Michele is a bit of a pack rat, and I think she didn't realize how much crap she had until we moved it this time. And, of course, she sees how little stuff I have. I have one box left to unpack, and one suitcase full of clothes to go through. And that's it!
The first night we dropped things off at the new house, we were exhausted, so we went into the back bedroom and laid down in the floor. I thought I heard a noise. Twice. So I got up and stuck my head into the hallway. Nothing. I stepped into the hallway and looked around the house. Nothing. EXCEPT I very distinctly smelled cigarette smoke in the hallway. I was freaked out. Why would I smell cigarette smoke? I went back into the room with Michele and laid down in the floor again. The doorbell rang twice. I was confused because no one knows where we live...and who would show up that night? I made Michele go answer the door because I was creeped out. There was no one there. We both got REALLY freaked out then. Because she could smell the smoke, too. But only in a certain spot in the hallway. She said something like, "I don't believe in all your stuff, but do whatever you have to do to make this stop." She was referring to me wanting to 'cleanse' the house with sage, etc. And then she looked really creeped out when I told her I didn't know how to banish stuff. We were both wigged out. We were standing in the middle of the empty living room when we heard someone knocking on the back door. We crept to the door, Michele opened it, and......
There was the neighbor standing there with a plate of brownies and a candle to welcome us to the neighborhood. She also wanted to give us the dirt on all the neighbors. Really, I think what she wanted was the dirt on us. We didn't tell her anything, though. The thing that creeps me out is that I really believe the neighbor came INTO the house...and that is why it smelled like smoke. She smokes. We don't trust her, and are completely uncomfortable with her.
I miss my birdhouse.
On Friday, a huge limb fell off our pecan tree. This doesn't sound so bad, does it? Yeah, except that the branch hit our birdhouse on a pole and knocked it down, killing at least one birdie in the process. I have no birdhouse. I loved that birdhouse. And then we had rain. I wondered where all the birdies that had been living in the birdhouse went. Poor birdies. Besides that, we now have a giant branch in our backyard...still attached to the tree. We don't own a saw. Michele wants to call someone and have them trim down all the trees so it doesn't happen again. Also, our backyard is now missing some wonderful shade.
It feels great to finally be out of that duplex. I hated it. Everything about it. It was really unbelievable that I agreed to move in there with her. But it's okay, because it is over now. My commute is longer. So long, in fact, that I pass THREE Super Wal-Marts. THREE. That's a lot of distance. I got myself one of those fancy tolltags, and I feel like a yuppie. I mean, really...I actually PAY to drive on a road when there is a perfectly acceptable road I can use for free? Yes, yes, I do. Because I abhor the whole LBJ/75 construction area. It's just awful. The traffic is bottle-necked and it's congested. But I can take George Bush, and no problem. No congestion. I can drive 70. That's what I like, right there.
We still aren't unpacked. Michele is a bit of a pack rat, and I think she didn't realize how much crap she had until we moved it this time. And, of course, she sees how little stuff I have. I have one box left to unpack, and one suitcase full of clothes to go through. And that's it!
The first night we dropped things off at the new house, we were exhausted, so we went into the back bedroom and laid down in the floor. I thought I heard a noise. Twice. So I got up and stuck my head into the hallway. Nothing. I stepped into the hallway and looked around the house. Nothing. EXCEPT I very distinctly smelled cigarette smoke in the hallway. I was freaked out. Why would I smell cigarette smoke? I went back into the room with Michele and laid down in the floor again. The doorbell rang twice. I was confused because no one knows where we live...and who would show up that night? I made Michele go answer the door because I was creeped out. There was no one there. We both got REALLY freaked out then. Because she could smell the smoke, too. But only in a certain spot in the hallway. She said something like, "I don't believe in all your stuff, but do whatever you have to do to make this stop." She was referring to me wanting to 'cleanse' the house with sage, etc. And then she looked really creeped out when I told her I didn't know how to banish stuff. We were both wigged out. We were standing in the middle of the empty living room when we heard someone knocking on the back door. We crept to the door, Michele opened it, and......
There was the neighbor standing there with a plate of brownies and a candle to welcome us to the neighborhood. She also wanted to give us the dirt on all the neighbors. Really, I think what she wanted was the dirt on us. We didn't tell her anything, though. The thing that creeps me out is that I really believe the neighbor came INTO the house...and that is why it smelled like smoke. She smokes. We don't trust her, and are completely uncomfortable with her.
I miss my birdhouse.
Dawn, 9:16 AM
