Curiouser and curiouser…
This day has started off completely Dali-esque. I haven’t even fully woken up yet. I’m beginning to feel a little like Arthur Dent, sans housecoat, but I’m thinking I should grab my towel now.
First off, I am shaken gently awake by my husband, who is ready to head out the door and he gives me a little kiss and asks me what time I am supposed to wake up this morning, since I need to get into work earlier than usual (well, for today. Normally on Fridays I don’t go to work until 2pm). I blink, rub the sleep from my eyes, and grab my trusty little alarm clock. Not-so-trusty, it appears, as the alarm was supposed to have gone off a couple of minutes before. I show my husband my alarm clock tiredly and begin to mumble about how I left myself about an hour’s worth of extra time in case I needed it. However, I now have to get my backup, never-fail alarm clock set, to ensure I do wake up. My husband smiles and shakes his head at my odd waking-up routine and heads out the door. I set my never-fail backup clock AND my now non-trusty old alarm clock, just to be sure. I fall asleep and dream of going to a restaurant, and taking everything I possibly could take from the menu home in a doggy bag. My never-fail alarm clock goes off…
…half an hour early. Huh? I check it, double check it. Nope, it is set properly. AM, not PM. Disgusted, I turn off both clocks and get in the shower. It still doesn’t quite wake me up, but at least now I’m clean and dressed, so I sit down to a nice little breakfast. I see a note left for me by my husband: Sale on hot dogs. Go pick some up for BBQ, if you have time. I look at the clock. Yeah, I’ve got time. I take a post-it and write down hot dogs. I add one more item for myself and place the note in my purse. I hear shuffling outside the door.
The mailman? The mail never comes until about one in the afternoon. It’s about 9:30am. Huh. I open the door and see a new mailman. Well, okay, someone else doing the route. He smiles and half bows at me, then scurries off to the house next door. Uh. Okay. I fumble my keys out of my purse and open the mailbox. Oh! A “Welcome to the United States of America” letter from the DHS! Well, that’s very nice of them. I beamed and set it near my husband’s computer so he could see it when he got home in the evening. I then decide it’s time to run my errands.
I leave the house and begin walking to the store. Along the way I pass a man walking in the opposite direction. He is smiling at me and looks eerily similar to Mos Def. Ford? I think to myself. As he passes me, he says, “Welcome to America!” I spin around and stare after him. He smiles, gives me a friendly wave, and continues walking. I don’t know this person. I have never seen him in my life. Maybe he didn’t say that? Bewildered, I continue walking.
At the store, I pull my little post it note from my purse. It has two items on it:
hot dogs
wine
Uh huh. I gather up these high class goodies and take them to the counter. The lady checking me out leans forward and whispers:
“Haven’t I seen you on TV? There was this sitcom…”
I shake my head no. Any resemblence I may have once had to Alyson Hannigan has passed over time, between weight gain and lost youth, and me not really having looked a lot like her in the first place aside from red hair, pale skin, and goofy mannerisms. Other than that, I don’t look a damn thing like anybody famous, that’s for certain. Unless she thought I looked like that fat guy on King of Queens or something. I leave the store.
As I am walking along the sidewalk in the shade of a building, suddenly a red rose falls out of the sky and at my feet. I pause a second or two, but then step over it and continue walking. I hear another soft “shh” sound hit the ground behind me, turn around and see another one has fallen. Another lands beside me. I look up into the sky. I see nothing. No one seems to be around.
“Where are the damn frogs?” I mutter aloud, thinking of the frogs that rained over various places throughout history.
“Excuse-moi.”
I look up again, startled. There, on the roof, poking his head over the side, is… well, apparently a Frenchman. He is holding several roses. I back away to get a better view of him, and he seems to be decorating something.
“Je m’excuse!” I shout to him. He waves me off with a flap of his hand. Well, there’s my frog, I think. I continue walking home without incident.
I open the door to my apartment, and my oldest cat runs up to me with her favourite gray mouse toy. She drops it at my feet and begins rubbing my legs in her usual manner.
“Yes, yes, just a minute,” I mutter, tripping over her to get to the counter.
“Now, Momma!” she says. I am stunned.
“What did you just say?” I ask her. She looks at me with wide, innocent eyes. I shake my head. It’s the heat, I think. I stand up and walk down the hall to wash up.
“MOMMA!” the cat yells. I look at her. She looks innocent again.
I think I need some of that wine.
So, it’s only 11am. I need to go to work at noon. I can’t wait to find out what’s in store for me today. :dubious:
Whatever the case, I think I should bring my towel.
“Well it had been 987 years in outer space time when I got back.
Couldn’t seem to find any of my friends to tell my intersting stories to!”
