Of Fifth Wheels and Lord Voldemort

And here we are, on the first day of the weekend I’ve been anticipating for the last two weeks. Thus far, I’ve cleaned and dusted my room, failed to shower, angered my boss and am now in the process of writing another essay for my 19th century English class. I also watched three episodes of Cranford, lent to me by my boss. If you like Victorian-esque programs, you’d probably enjoy it.

So while I'm dismantling the 105 lines of Percy Shelley's “To a Sky-Lark” my parents finished making supper and my sister came home from work, accompanied by her boyfriend. Now, I’m not that great at math, but I managed to figure out during dinner that our numbers came to five. More often than not, I’ve been treated to the position of third wheel owing to my decisions not partake in the consumption of alcohol or smokable substances. Being the fifth wheel (not the giant trucks though, some days I feel about as wide as one, those are bad days) is taking some getting used to, particularly in my own home. Being the bitter, sarcastic, annoyed person that I am, I’ve come up with certain survival strategies so that I can maintain my sanity.

1) HIDE! It’s when they see you that bad things happen.

2) Complain. Mainly because it’s fun. I’m on step two. Can you tell?

3) Eat. Food is good, particularly while watching a movie in bed. It also numbs the feelings arising from the fact that you’re eating in bed, with your cat on a Saturday night. I’m preparing for my role as crazy cat lady. I like being ready! Stop looking at me like that!

4) Swear and warn that as soon as you find someone that you will be ten times more cutesy and disgusting! Which I will be... oh I will be!

5) Sleep. You can’t think while unconscious. Unless you’re dreaming but if you’re like me, you won’t remember your dreams in the morning

Step five isn’t totally true. I remember a dream I had where everything was iced over and I had to get home. Half way there, I met up with Lord Voldemort. He was at the bus stop. For whatever reason, he was wearing the sun glasses from the Johnny Depp version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Together we decided that the evil now upon us was much worse than Lord Voldemort. So we teamed up and walked back to my place where I went into labour and gave birth to twins. I woke up at that point and laughed because seriously, what else can you say other than: “What the hell?” or for those of you who are savvy with your web lingo “WTF?” I actually said the long version of WTF followed by a snort of laughter before going back to sleep. I kind of wish I could have gone back to that dream. I’m curious who got me pregnant.

Anyway, that’s today’s taste of insanity direct from me, Lauren, to you, my growing harem of readers. Up to three! I don’t care if I know two of you. It’s still three!

Happy Saturday!

Lauren.