Tuesday, August 23, 2011

I Felt The Earth Move Under My Feet

Actually, I didn't feel a thing. I felt the indian food cart man take $5 from me as I ordered lunch. I guess being on the ground made it so I didn't experience what was the 2nd earthquake I am aware of happening in on or around my person. The first was in LA. I thought a big truck drove by.

My neighbors and other people I didn't know were beginning to congregate all over the streets, looking up and down and off into space, going "whaaa?" and "huh?" and every fourth person or so was muttering, "earthquake or something" to whoever would listen.

Back in my office, my degree had fallen off the wall (it always did make a better paperweight / floor decoration than a degree anyway) and my 5th grade picture that I always look at instead of a "hang in there!" cat poster (it makes me feel inspired to see the 5th grade me up there with hope in my eyes, expecting to be rewarded, satisfied and impressed by the college grad me) was tilted to the side, making my smile straight for once.

My cat seemed freakishly calm, lying on her back with her belly exposed for petting purposes. I wish she'd told me with her psychic cat earthquake sensing powers that something was about to go down, but instead she was doing other cat things, like stretching and blinking theatrically dramatically slowly like a cat imitating a cat.

When things like this happen, I think about buying a house in the trees somewhere where concrete and mortar will be less likely to rain down on me in the event of calamity. But who made up the rules anyway of what is likely to happen or not? I'm the type of person who would move to the woods to get crushed by a falling tree or find myself one day bitten to death by an angry squirrel. My life is comically deranged. God or the angels or the spirits who control shit are definitely mocking me.

If they weren't, I'd be rich by now.

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