Monday, January 30, 2006
Tonight Was Not What I Expected
Tonight was an interesting night, after I finished cleaning up my room, that is.
My room, for years has been in a constant state of disarray. Similar to the parallels with my life, it all began in college. It just happened.
I’ve been working on undoing all of my bad habits. I eat at home instead of not at home. I try to save money, and be a little healthier.
All stories have a lull, and then the storm is out with its coat on, accosting you wherever you go.
So, as soon as I had my room clean, vacuumed. I was waiting on a girl to meet up with me and we could go see The Aristocrats. It was a wonderful place to be, and I was thinking of my life in positive terms. Like, “ooooh, the future might just be okay, after all.” Just like that, but with conviction.
The doorbell, and I think she’s uncharacteristically early for the times she meets up. I go out, and first think that there had been a fire. Lights are everywhere, and maybe is there something I can do to help? Maybe if I had a couch or bed I can let them use?
It’s about four EMS trucks, nine people, and a stretcher with some equipment laid across the top, waiting for me to open the door. Looking back on it, I wonder what they would have done had this happened an hour or so later on, when I left the house by itself.
I open the door, and yes, this is such and such address.
You got a call that someone here has been poisoned, or overdosed? I’m the only one here, and I think I’m alright.
We search the house, looking for bodies that I might not have known were lying unconscious. I thought I was the only way home.
No bodies were found, but I did find myself trying to rationalize the following: we went to the basement, where one of my roommates and her dogs stay. She was out of the area at the time, and we found sleeping pills all over the floor. The culprit? No, the dogs had gotten at it, ripped it apart, and left it all over the floor.
I spent a moment thinking, how did EMS get called on the dogs poisoning themselves? It was surreal, finally finding the bottle of sleeping pills, but no one to take them (the dogs didn’t either, by the way).
Anyway, we finally found out it was someone who got a call from another roommate, thinking she might have done something to herself. She was out of town, so it was a guess that she was here. It took a while to piece it together, and now I’m just hoping to hear back from her soon, to find out if she’s okay.
Why can’t there ever be a period of life where everything is actually alright? I’m tired of troubles and worry.
My room, for years has been in a constant state of disarray. Similar to the parallels with my life, it all began in college. It just happened.
I’ve been working on undoing all of my bad habits. I eat at home instead of not at home. I try to save money, and be a little healthier.
All stories have a lull, and then the storm is out with its coat on, accosting you wherever you go.
So, as soon as I had my room clean, vacuumed. I was waiting on a girl to meet up with me and we could go see The Aristocrats. It was a wonderful place to be, and I was thinking of my life in positive terms. Like, “ooooh, the future might just be okay, after all.” Just like that, but with conviction.
The doorbell, and I think she’s uncharacteristically early for the times she meets up. I go out, and first think that there had been a fire. Lights are everywhere, and maybe is there something I can do to help? Maybe if I had a couch or bed I can let them use?
It’s about four EMS trucks, nine people, and a stretcher with some equipment laid across the top, waiting for me to open the door. Looking back on it, I wonder what they would have done had this happened an hour or so later on, when I left the house by itself.
I open the door, and yes, this is such and such address.
You got a call that someone here has been poisoned, or overdosed? I’m the only one here, and I think I’m alright.
We search the house, looking for bodies that I might not have known were lying unconscious. I thought I was the only way home.
No bodies were found, but I did find myself trying to rationalize the following: we went to the basement, where one of my roommates and her dogs stay. She was out of the area at the time, and we found sleeping pills all over the floor. The culprit? No, the dogs had gotten at it, ripped it apart, and left it all over the floor.
I spent a moment thinking, how did EMS get called on the dogs poisoning themselves? It was surreal, finally finding the bottle of sleeping pills, but no one to take them (the dogs didn’t either, by the way).
Anyway, we finally found out it was someone who got a call from another roommate, thinking she might have done something to herself. She was out of town, so it was a guess that she was here. It took a while to piece it together, and now I’m just hoping to hear back from her soon, to find out if she’s okay.
Why can’t there ever be a period of life where everything is actually alright? I’m tired of troubles and worry.
# posted by David @ 1:13 AM 
