I'm starting to think I live in the Twilight Zone. I don't know if everybody has such odd things happen to them, but it's really got me stymied. For instance, today I was driving to work with only half-defrosted windows and the wipers working hard at the other half. All of a sudden, the driver's side wiper went left instead of right and rested non-chalantly on my side view mirror. I stopped, got out, and found that it was disconnected from the car. I hope it doesn't rain until I can figure out how to get the entire apparatus (not just the wiper blade) back to doing its job.
Another example, I can't even remember the last time my alarm didn't go off and even when it didn't I woke up anyway. Well, it happened yesterday. I slept two extra hours and was an hour late for work. Hasn't happened since high school, and then it may have been manipulation to get out of a few hours of school. My memory is going so who knows, but I suspect that might be true.
I can often feel my smart phone vibrating in my bra...when it's not in my bra. I also regularly get a case of hives. Make that one hive. One single insanely itchy hive. About every other day. Can you hear the Twilight Zone theme music yet?
And then there's my dog, a shaggy Shih Tzu named Elway, who is crazy. The other day, a friend was visiting and he hopped up into her lap. That's not unusual, he does that all the time. But then he climbed her stomach, pawed a soft place in her ample...um...bosoms, and made himself comfy. I've never seen him do that before and he's sat on many, many laps.
Also, once I had a car that, when the radio was off, I could hear the theme song to “I Love Lucy”. I know, straight-jacket material, huh?! In another car, if I pressed the brake and hit the right turn signal, the horn would honk.
Last week I put the back seat of my car down in order to bring home a door. Even though I've raised the seat back up bunches of times, this time I can't do it. Mechanical things are a problem. Like the door to our lobby at work. It has a lock that can be opened without a key for safety reasons (in case I have to make a quick getaway after a drug test goes bad or something). If my landlord is standing there, I can open it right up. If he's not, neither I, nor the guy in the next office, or even the cleaning lady can unlock it to save our lives. So far our lives haven't needed saving, but it could happen. Especially in the Twilight Zone.
Recently, my daughter asked if she could order some things through my Amazon account, where I had just browsed and ordered a toy for her son's birthday gift. About an hour later, I was balancing my checkbook and saw a whole list of toys had been purchased. I panicked, called my daughter and said, “I accidentally ordered like six toys. When they come, will you send them back and I'll give you shipping money?” She said, “Mom. Remember when I asked if I could use Amazon?” Oh, right. Technically that's more an estrogen-deprived-lack-of-memory issues than TZ weirdness but it felt pretty weird at the time.
As a bonus, I've learned a new language. It goes like this. Lloyd and I are watching television and I yell: “Hit pause”. Terrified by my outburst, he obeys. I say: “Those stairs. See them? They are the exact ones from that movie...you know...where what's her name hangs that stuff over the railing...and ...oh, who is that actor?... well her husband,? They leave and get back together? What was that movie?”
You get it, right? I got it too. Eventually. The next day I called Lloyd and said seven words: Hi. Bruce Willis. The Story of Us.” The weird thing is he knew exactly what I meant. And it really was the same staircase!
Just last night, dinner wouldn't cook, my television show didn't record and all our ice cream melted.
Seven words: Turn on oven, Wednesday not Tuesday, fridge.
I rest my case.