Now You See Him, Now You Don't....Because He Ate Your Eyeballs

A few nights ago, I thought I had started hallucinating. It was different than the time Charlie Chaplin sat down next me and asked if I wanted to watch Mariah Carey's Glitter**. This was more like shadows in the corner of my eye. I kept it to myself since last time I was unemployed, I sat at home and convinced myself that I had some pretty serious issues. Finally, my aliments had escalated to the point I had to tell Matt that I had self diagnosed my Meningitis. His only reply to this serious news was "you need a job". (Don't worry, it turns out my neck was just sore due to sitting in the same position to watch court tv. Once I varied my seating positions, my Meningitis cleared right up). I saw the shadow a few times, but finally I happened to be looking at the wall when I saw the shadow materialize into a mouse.

Me: I am pretty sure we have a mouse or a REALLY fast tiny midget, his name is Houdini and he wants to eat my face off and make a victory flag out of my scalp!
Matt: Why can you not stay home from work without going crazy? You need a job.

I think we can all agree that Matt COMPLETELY overreacted to the situation.

It was 2 nights later that I see a shadow and see Matt jump up in his chair. Houdini had run along the wall and went behind the TV.

Matt: OMG, there he is!
Me: Hide your face!
Matt: I just need you to know that I might have jumped because he surprised me, but I am 86% sure that if it came to a head to head battle, I would win.

The problem now is that Matt gets up and goes to work and I am left home alone with Houdini. It wasn't long until I realized that the 80's had prepared me for this very moment. I spent the morning deconstructing my living room fort so I could use the extra pillows to form a walled walkway from the tv to door. I then sat on the couch and threw a bouncy ball at the wall to scare him out into the tunnel, where he would run out down the pillow tunnel, and out the front door. I am hoping it works soon, because stage 2 involves intimidating outfits and I have no clue where to get a cat costume in July.

** For the record I have never watched Glitter!

Don't worry, Radio Star... The Video Star will get his.

Here is a list of totally useless things I was forced to learn that are now just useless things I carry with me to make me feel old.

Spelling- OMG, WTF!! No 1 spells wrds N-E-more. I haven't had to spell a word correctly on my own in 15 years. Why would I? There is an aggressive red line that shows up under any error I make. Isn't that gr8?

Phonics- It only took me 2 years of being hooked on phonics before I realized I was the only idiot speaking correctly.

"You have to work hard to get rewards"- I learned that there was one winner and a bunch of losers in every competition. I learned that I was not owed something, just because I showed up. I learned that I would have to follow a winner into an alley and beat them up and steal their trophy in order to own one. Now teachers just change grades to assure each kid passes, even the kid in out field picking his nose gets a trophy and everyone gets to eat the pizza on "Pizza Friday" whether they finished their BOOK IT list or not.

Writing Essays- They were ALWAYS more than 150 characters. I prove my point.

Dewey Decimal System- I had to know which tiny wooden drawer to open and then which one of the 500 index cards in it would lead me to information on forming my occult in 3rd grade. Not to mention, as soon as I found all the books I needed, I was allowed to play Oregon Trail. With only 3 computers for a class of 13, it was in my best interest to get good at locating books so I didn't have to stand on the side and scream "I hope you die of Dysentery!!!" at the 3 kids that proved better than me at finding the dictionary.

Cursive- The art of writing has changed so much that schools are not even teaching how to write in cursive. Though I have not given up on this one, since when I am 85 years old and the world needs cursive writing translators, I will be able to have a little extra cash for the hookers and blow. (Don't judge, we all can make our own choices as how to spend our old age)

I can't imagine how old I am going to feel when I am actually old. It sucks that at 32 years old, I already have a "when I was in school ...." story.



Honorable mentions:

ROYGBIV- Yea, I get it.... there are lots of colors when light hits water, woohoo. I appreciate whom ever came up with this funky little acronym, however, I can not name a single time in my life that it was imperative that I knew how to put the colors in order.

Kingdom, Phylum, Class, Order, Family, Genus, Species- This wasn't hard to learn forever once I realized that King Phillip Came Over For Good Sex, but it is just one more thing I have never in my life needed to reference to make my point.

No matter how you score it "unemployed" is worth more points than "employed" in Scrabble. I win!

No matter how you score it, "unemployed" is worth more points than "Employed" in Scabble...I win.

There are only a few things more awkward than having the Grim Reaper tap your friend on the shoulder and say "hey you need to come with me" while you are trying to enjoy some adult beverages after work. Not only is it a bit awkward, but it is a total buzz kill.

I quit my job last week. I walked out in a blaze of glory... So I might not have used the classic style of Steven Slater, but in my defense, my job did not have an emergency chute to pull. But I did turn in my notice and was immediately walked to the door with my entire staff throwing slurs and insults to the HR lady that was acting as my escort. Quitting your job seriously frees up the schedule. I now have an extra 10 hours a day to clean, run errands, cook, watch court tv, or plan for my future hang out in bars all day.
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The day after I quit, I was sitting at my bar with a friend and a guy with a service animal came and sat next to us. Now I have worked with people with disabilities for almost 10 years and I am slightly attune to disability etiquette. I have learned that you are not supposed to rip off someone's prosthetic leg and hit them with it. I have learned that you are not supposed to roll someone in a wheelchair down a bowling lane. I have learned that you are not supposed to ask a midget to dress up like a cowboy and dance. Most importantly, I have learned that you should never touch someones cane, wheelchair, service animal or other assistive device without permission. It was in the name of proper etiquette, that you can imagine my discomfort when I look up and see the Dog up on the bench licking my friend face. I told my friend that he should not be playing with the cute guy while he was working. I barely got the words out when I realized that he did not tell the dog to get up on the table. The owner of the dog spoke up and asked "Have you been to the hospital recently? This animal is trained to alert to disease."

It is awkward no matter how you replay it. We all sat there for a few minutes in uncomfortable silence thinking about how pathetic it is that even this dog had a job and I didn't.