The Disaster That Is My Life, Part Two of Many

I sighed, and scraped the last little bit of purple from under my fingernails. Shame about that modeling job, really.

Benedict Cumberbatch’s fabulous voice played in the background over the microwave’s ding.

“Awww yisss my lasagna!” I rubbed my hands against my jeans to dry them and rushed to the counter. “Mmmm..” I inhaled that warm, fresh, red smell, and then almost cried because gosh dang that dish is hot.

Mori whined at my feet. I glanced down, his big mismatched eyes staring deep into my soul, begging with all his precious heart just to try my pasta.


(Author’s Note: This is, in fact, my puppy Moriarty Arthur. He is nearly six months old, half Australian Shepherd, half Catahoula. You will probably see a lot more of him from now on. Thanks for reading!)

“Hang on, sweetie.” I grabbed a couple hot pads from the drawer at my hip and placed the lasagna carefully on my little table. “Alright boy, Sit!” Mori sat obediently on his cute lil butt, and I gave him a small chunk of meat from off my plate.

That smile is worth anything in the world.

Hedwig’s theme from Harry Potter started playing over the sounds of Sherlock, and I picked up my cell. “‘Sup?”

Tika’s voice came screaming – literally, screaming – through the receiver.

I took a bite of my food, drank some water to cool off my tongue, and then responded once she had quieted. “Tika, you know I can’t understand a word you’re saying, right?” If she even was speaking real words, sometimes I’m not sure.

“AAAA Did you hear about Kya and Bear?!?” She yelled back.

My interest peaked, “What? No, I didn’t hear anything. What’s up?”

“He proposed! Bear proposed!” We screamed together like excited girls tend to, and chatted for a few minutes more.

“Hey, any ideas for my next chapter?” I questioned, hoping that my best friend would have some ideas for me, especially since she was practically co-author of, like, 90% of my life already.

“Of your book? No idea. Maybe something with romance?” Tika suggested.

“Not really my thing. I mean, it’s nice and all, but there are so much more intriguing topics to discuss!” I retorted. “Things like science and art and cute little animals and orphans from, I dunno, Bulgaria or something…”

She laughed, “Alright, alright. Nerd. Just write whatever and make it sound nice, use lots of big words too. I have to go, Slink is trying to escape down the hall.”

We said our goodbyes and she hung up, hurrying after her crazed ferret. Glancing down, I see my own psychotic mammal still staring up with hope in his eyes. “You are so spoiled, y’know.” I drop down some more of my dinner for him to enjoy.

I stretch, and then decide to do some nice yoga before bed. “C’mon boy, let’s get our workout music on! ‘Cause this is totally a workout!”

I decide to do the Kapotasana pose, which I learned when I was around fifteen, and it’s still great for popping my back and sternum into place. It looks like this:


Next I reversed it with Child and Sun Salutation poses, to make sure I kept my spine straight. Moriarty rolled around next to me with a bone, and tried to lick my face.

After fully stretching out all the kinks – especially the ones in my neck and shoulders from conking out in Sara’s cafe earlier – Mori and I headed to bed.

He pulled his blankie up onto the bed and dropped it on my lap so I could wrap him in it.


We snuggled close and slowly dozed off.

I was back in that garden, the silent and still one with no life. I didn’t want to leave right away this time, I would rather explore first. I moved carefully, trying to stay grounded. Still there was no breeze or temperature fluctuation.

One rose stood out in particular, big and orangey. I plucked it, the stem snapping crisply. No smell. That was odd too, usually I dream in all five senses, why couldn’t I feel or smell or hear anything in this garden?

Could I taste? Putting the rose petals against my tongue was probably not sanitary, nor did it yield positive results.

What it did do was suck me into its ruffly orange-red bud, and then I was standing on the edge of a cliff on the coast, the sunset the exact same color as the rose. This time my senses were back, I could smell the saltwater sharp in my breath, the wind was blowing, tearing the rose’s petals away into the wind and over the sea. Waves crashed and people noisily moved about below, the last few visitors trickling away across the golden sand.

At first the sight was perfect. Beautiful, calming, incredibly peaceful. Loud and great and strong and kind. But gravity and wind yanked, rocks began to slide, and then I was falling, slowly, unable to scream, air trapped in my lungs.

Trying to cry but frozen, I moved slower and slower rather than faster and faster as I had expected. It was like moving through Jell-O, slow and uncomfortable and claustrophobic.

Why did I have to think of Jell-O? Now I was trapped far out in the ocean, but the water was thick and gelatinous and I was drowning, slowly, so slowly…

Seaweed began tangling around my ankles, tugging me down. I took my last gasp of breath and my head went under. I could still see clearly, perhaps even more clearly than I could in real life, and I realized it wasn’t just seaweed grabbing my feet, but a red demon was below, his large grin terrifying against the surprisingly calm water around us.

Air bubble burst from my throat as I wasted my last bit of air to whisper, “El Diablo…” #WORTHIT

Satan smiled even wider, which didn’t seem possible, and replied calmly “Mayonnaise.”

My confusion only lasted a few moments before his black eyes swirled and dragged me in, dropping me with a thud on my bedroom floor.

Moriarty barked in my ear and began kissing my face. I struggled to free myself from the tangled blankets wrapped around my limbs.

“Gajhhahh,” I spit out some hair that was tickling my lips.

Mori flopped over and showed me his teeth with a big smile.

“You look like The Joker.” I pushed myself up and pulled my alarm clock off my bedside table back towards me.

“UGHhhh I’ve only been asleep for, like, four hours.” Sadly, I crawled back onto my mattress and patted next to me for Mori to hop up. He did, and fell asleep almost instantaneously.

I, however, lay in bed wondering if I should write this all down in my dream journal and have my Yoga Instructor, Keirsha, explain what she thinks it could mean. But that would require movement, and I honestly don’t care that much about journals. Or dreams.

So I let myself pass out again, and fortunately this time I simply drifted off into a more normal dreamland.

To Be Continued At A Later Point In Time, Thank You For Reading!


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