The Bird

There was a high pitched screech.

I woke from the middle of a dream and lay still. Was it in the dream that I'd heard that noise or did one of the cats bring something in again? I imagined a bat. What would I do if they brought in a live bat?

Silence. I was about to relax.

And then there came the thumping from under my bed, telling me that one of the cats for certain was under there, playing around with an innocent animal he didn't need to catch. It's not like we don't feed them regularly. 

Next thing I knew, I heard the wild flapping of wings and I quickly dove under my covers. Just in time, too, because something very solid landed on my leg and then promptly disappeared. I snatched my phone from off the nightstand and text my mom.

SOS there's a live bird in my room and I'm hiding under my covers. It landed on me.

I actually paused in sending it because it was six in the morning and we were all wanting to sleep in. But then I visualized trying to make my way to the exit in the dark, with Diego in my arms and me wearing nothing but a shirt and underwear, and asked myself what I would do if I stepped on the bird with my bare foot or if the bird collided with my face. 

Send.

The room was silent while I heard a conversation upstairs and then footsteps. My dad was coming to save me.

He turned my light on, and at first, the bird was nowhere in sight. But then it launched out of hiding and I pulled the covers back over my head. It collided with my smaller bookcase and my dad caught it. Thank goodness for my mom, who sleeps light, and my dad, who is willing to get me out of a jam. 

I love my cats when they're curled on my bed, sleeping with me, or when Simba (the likely culprit) wants me to pet him with my feet while I'm reading or watching TV. But when they bring in live animals (birds, mice, snakes), or kill them and shred them apart all over our house, I wonder why in the world I decided having cats sounded like a fine idea.

I'd just like a night's sleep not interrupted by the animals causing problems. 

Also, in the dark, I'm terrified of everything. I hope I never have to defend myself while I can't see. Won't end well. 

Knock-Knock. Who's there? The Negative Monster

Cheesiest title ever. Okay, I can't claim that, but for now, we'll pretend I took Gold in the Cheesiest Title Ever.

Today hasn't been great.

Actually there have been several bad days lately. I can basically hear all the "life's what you make it" believers chiding me for allowing the day to be bad. Hey, I'm also a believer that it's what you make it, but sometimes you just have a bad day, and you should be allowed to call it such.

I feel like I'm losing grip on my emotions. I'm negative, I'm angry, I'm exhausted, I'm low, low, low and it has nothing to do with Apple Bottom jeans or boots with the fur.

I'm so tired.

Thank goodness this isn't me all the time, but the past five-ish days have been a nightmare. Something comes and sucker punches me when I'm not looking. 

One tiny Bad Thing (or maybe not so tiny, depending on perspective) bites me and I'm poisoned for the rest of the day. I'm not the type that can easily shake the bad off. It follows me around all day.

So right now, I'm trying to pump myself up. I was sitting the bathroom trying to think of a mood booster. But the problem is when I feel this way, negative and exhausted, all that I usually do for enjoyment loses its appeal. I don't want to read. I don't want to write. Who ever thought I was talented at writing anyway? Me, an author? Don't make me laugh. That isn't me. I'm not good enough.

I almost felt like running tonight, but it's cold and this stupid cough I have won't go away.

I'm waving my white flag, universe. I surrender. Please call off the fighting and give me a break.

It's not that this battle is that horrible, compared to so many others who have it infinitely worse than I do, but it's hard to look at other people's suffering when I feel like I'm drowning myself. That's what the hardest about my situation. I'm the one holding me under the water. I just don't know how to shake myself off and stand up. 

Or maybe I do know, it's just easier to let go.