May 29 2007
Missing Inaction
After I published my previous entry, I wasted no time descending deeper (and deeper) into my trusty bag of worst case scenarios. This person had travelled the globe, remained in one piece and it only took me a few days to loose her. It was, far and away, the most catastrophic thing to happen on my watch. D. was clearly unconscious/bleeding/lost in a ditch/alley/quarry because I had failed miserably at being a hostess with the mostest.
Standard operating procedure was followed and I called the Cambridge, Somerville and MBTA police with a description of my friend. Better safe than sorry, though I wish filing a “delayed persons” report was an option. The label of going through “missing persons” procedure gave me the push I needed to dive face first into my crazy. Maybe that’s an exagerration. I did feel a little bit better after having performed due diligence and eventually passed out around 3:30/4 AM.
Do you get the sense that I’m avoiding getting to the point? If not… check your pulse and have your cognitive ability tested. I actually started drafting this post the morning after my full scale freak out. It wasn’t that I wanted to build tension and drama for my band of loyal followers brother and best friend. You’ll find no shades of Grey’s Anatomy here. No salary negotiations to follow trying to gleam if I’ll sign on for another season. As protagonista and proprietor of this here monoblog I am locked into a lifelong contract with… well, me.
I guess I’m feeling a bit, shall we say, sheepish. What I am about to share is humbling to say the least. I suspect that events of last week unfolded as they did in order to bring about karmic balance for the high level of amusement I get from watching season after season of “The Bachelor”. It goes without saying that there’s a chance I may not be the brightest bulb. I am, however, determined to look on the bright side; focusing on the wisdom I’ve garnered in hindsight. (I have also racked up another cute story for use as conversational fodder at a high brow cocktail party 1/2 price burger night.) Lessons learned are as follows:
1- D. is not 6′ tall. She is 5′ 10″. For the record, I believe this still qualifies her as an Amazon for those of us 5′ 6″ and under.
2- Sometimes stealthy people cover themselves with a down comforter in such a way as to be completely undetectable to the naked eye. (Again- for the record, the bed was unmade but it didn’t have the usual signs of occupation: hair/appendages jutting out in plain sight and that overall lumpy appearance.)
3- D. is a really sound sleeper who is unaffected by a crazy girl poking her head in and out of the guest bedroom where she had passed out cold at 6 PM after an afternoon of exploring my neighborhood by foot.
4- Had I been a tad calmer I might have noticed that the only two pairs of shoes D. brought with her were in front of the shoe rack on the landing next to the front door.
In other words, I have a perfectly good brain. I just need to actually use it to reap the rewards of the ironically atypical phenomenon known as ‘common sense’.
