It’s a good thing my wife will be home in just a couple of days.  The toxicity level in my body, mostly from alcohol and cheap cigars, has reached a critical level.  My coordination is off, my decision-making abilities are severely impaired, and I believe I may have started hallucinating.  I thought I spotted a cow in the kitchen this morning, our collection of books seems to be rearranging itself on the shelves just to taunt me, the silk plants are drooping from lack of water, and I looked up and saw that both cats had been duct-taped to opposing blades of the ceiling fan, spinning in slow circles above my throbbing head.  Actually, that last one wasn’t a hallucination.  I don’t know how they got there, whether it was by the gypsies or me, sleep-walking, but they seem to be safe right now, and I have other problems to deal with…

My food supply was pretty much non-existent, so I broke down and went to the grocery store today.  Kim usually does the shopping, and I know little about food groups, so I tried to arrange things by color.  The cool color group included green grapes, blue Kool-Aid, and some round, purple, leafy thing that looked like a head of lettuce but wasn’t.  Warm color foods included red meat, yellow peppers, and anything that rhymes with orange.  For neutrals I chose chocolate candy, scrapple, and marshmallows.  I’m not sure if I can cook any of this stuff, and which items should be served together, but since I bought them in a place that sells food I think I’ll be okay.  I went home and loaded it all into the refrigerator, just to be sure none of it would go bad in the next forty-eight hours.

Cleaning may be an issue.  And laundry.  I hadn’t vacuumed since Kim went on vacation, so there were huge cat hairballs rolling around the carpet like thick, fetid tumbleweeds.  This is pollen season, so the furniture is covered not only with dust, but with this thick yellow stuff, as well.  I swear I saw a small mouse using tiny cross country skis to navigate its way across the kitchen table.  Although I could be mistaken; this was a southern mouse and they know very little about winter sports.  Laundry confused me at first, but I was able to work around my lack of expertise in that particular home craft.  There were many settings on the washing machine.  Different temperatures and times, settings for different types of fabrics, and a variety of clothing colors to consider.  Which colors will run and which ones won’t?  Important questions, indeed.  So I hung a long rope across the back porch and attached every dirty clothes item to it with small, wooden clampy things.  I found a Windex window cleaning attachment in the garage that simply had to be attached to the end of a water hose.  Not a problem.  I sprayed them all down until they were squeaky clean, then hosed them with fresh water to rinse the soapy stuff off, leaving them to dry for the remainder of the day.  Problem solved, although they may be a bit wrinkled.

My descent into madness is inevitable, but I plan to establish a veneer of responsibility for my actions of the past week, no matter how much duct tape and spray paint it may take.  There’s nothing dignified about having lived on this planet for over half a century and learning that I don’t have the intellectual know-how to iron a pair of socks.  Socks do get ironed, don’t they?

In the meantime,  I will keep loading the toxins into what little is left of me, because that’s what guys do when they are left alone.  Any other action would be undignified, and they may take away my Man Card.  I will use gorilla glue to repair all our fine china, and I will continue finding broken windows and covering them with the very best plastic wrap and aluminum foil.  I will fix the non-working toilet bowls, even though dipping my hands into cold, rusty water and manipulating something called a “ball cock” puts me way out of my comfort zone.  I will do this because I am a man, and I am not helpless, nor am I without resources.  Even though my brains cells are dying by the billions, I am seeing and hearing things that are probably not real, and my head is spinning slowly, slowly, slowly in constant, regular circles without any end in sight.

Just like some cats I know.

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One response »

  1. thewordverve says:

    Reblogged this on Books with Verve and commented:

    Day 5 . . . and it just keeps getting better!

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