Wednesday, March 4, 2009


I was in a perfect sleep having a perfect dream all snuggled into my perfect nest of a bed, and then GASPING for breath I sat straight up in bed. You would think I had woken from a horrible dream with a man in a black mask swinging a hatchet at my face because the violence of my waking was so abrupt, but in fact my brain was just waking me up in a horrible way to remember something to do. Like oh I’m sorry were you in the middle of something LIKE SLEEPING, sometimes I can be such a pain in the ass.

Today is street cleaning day and I have to move the car or I will get one of those lovely tickets we all love so much. Although I was angry at the way I remembered that I had to move the car I was grateful that I got up in time to do so. Since I am unemployed I have been staying up super late and sleeping in super late, because that is the rhythm clock my body likes the most. As I climbed from bed and slid into the first thing on the nightstand, Mr. Rogues oversized sweater and his flannel pants shrugging at the fact that I was going to go outside I reasoned that I would only be out of the house a moment. I grabbed my keys and walked out the door to quickly move the car.

I looked both ways before stepping out into the sunlight making sure that the coast was clear before scurrying as fast as I could to the car. After moving the car, as I jumped out of the driver’s seat to dash back into the house I was intercepted by my overfriendly overly chatty neighbour. She is older, retired and very obviously starved for company because more often than not she steps out of her house to attempt to waylay me into a conversation that is very difficult to remove yourself from. I like her I really do and most of the time I enjoy our conversations I just wish that they would be a bit shorter. As I shifted my weight from foot to foot because I was uncomfortable with my bed head hair sticking up in a million directions, in my pyjamas, I hadn’t even washed my face or brushed my teeth I searched for a way to get out of our conversation gracefully so I could hide myself away in my house.

After talking on her front lawn about my lack of job, the crappy real estate market, she mentioned her new dog and asked me to come in and meet him. Since I am an animal lover and since I wanted to stay on the front lawn looking like I did as much as I would love to have lemon squeezed into my eyes I agreed in the hopes that I could meet her dog and then skip out the front door off on my merry way. I did not know that I would be stepping into a house that was more like a prison then anything else.

On one hand I feel bad, she is an older woman with an obvious need to have some attention given to her, but on the other I had a great book and breakfast waiting for me across the street. After erasing my selfishness from my brain I decided once I was in the house to graceful accept my time and settled down with a cup of tea to wait out the babble. I wondered how long she could talk until she ran out of air. I don’t think I will ever have the patience to find out

I have always gotten along better with people older than I. Older women seem to love me; maybe it is because I find that so much they have to tell is interesting, when I am dressed appropriately that is. We talked about politics, children, herbs, and even how to make your own flavoured oils. Conversations just flowed from one subject to another, a tide of words that jumped from one topic to another. After an hour I tried to leave, only to be guilt in staying just a bit longer, just one more cup of tea, after another hour I was itching to leave and tried again to extricate myself, only after another hour did I finally succeed in getting out the door. She was followed me out of the door, onto the lawn, onto my lawn and then to my front door. As I said goodbye for the hundredth time as gently shut the door on her smiling face I felt a pang of pity for an old woman who kidnaps people for attention.

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