Monday, November 10, 2014
Run/ Walk/ Bike/ Elliptical (Today: 2.48 miles; Running Total: 32.05 miles)
Day 122 of *Another* 100 Days of Good Karma.
I had a foolish thought last week. I thought ‘after cancer, nothing can scare me’.
God must have heard the thought and taken it as a personal challenge.
I walked in my bathroom today, an empty laundry basket on one hip. I ran out of hangers in the middle of folding a load of laundry and popped in to grab a few more from the closet on the other side of the bathroom.
I froze in the doorway, my heart beating so hard in my chest I thought I’d throw up.
A long skinny something lay on the floor by the bathtub. It was about the length of my hand and no wider than a pencil.
That can’t be… I thought.
I peered closer.
Oh but it was.
It was a snake.
In my bathroom.
I drew in a deep breath wanting to scream and run away but I couldn’t move. The snake didn’t move either, but I felt its beady little eyes watching me.
I almost screamed for Justin. But Justin was at work.
I briefly considered trapping it and leaving it until Justin got home that night, but I had nothing to trap it with and I was afraid if I left the room it might go somewhere else.
Like into the closet.
And then I’d never ever, ever be able to get dressed again because what if it crawled into a shirt or a pair of jeans or my shoes?
As the snake and I stared at each other across the bathroom tile it slowly dawned on me: I was going to have to kill it.
Kill it with what, I had no idea. I cast about the bathroom for something to squash it with.
I looked down at the boots on my feet and shuddered violently. The very thought of stepping on the creature, hear it crunch under my boot, made me want to curl up with revulsion.
But what if there was something between my shoe and the snake?
That might work.
I looked around the bathroom again and my eyes stopped at the bathmat.
I snagged the bath mat and threw it over the top of the snake.
Taking a deep breath I jumped onto the mat with both feet. I stomped and danced and screamed like a warrior killing a tiger instead of girl killing a tiny garden snake.
I leapt off the mat. My hands shook and I was breathing too hard.
Only then did I see a problem with using the mat. Because now I had to look under the mat to see if the damn thing was dead.
I tweezed the edge of the mat between trembling fingers and peered beneath.
A length of tail peeked out and whipped side to side.
I screamed (not exactly a warrior cry this time), threw the mat back over the tail and jumped on it again.
I looked beneath the mat again.
The tail curled and twisted.
Now I was freaked out and getting pissed.
I mean, what the hell?! It weighed, what… an ounce?
All one hundred and fifty pounds of me had just boogied all over the damn thing not once but twice and it was. still. moving.
I ran to the back door and called Tilley inside. I showed her the snake hoping she’d kill it the rest of the way for me but she just wanted to play with it.
I had a sudden vision of her flipping the snake in the air and it crawling off to some crevice where I’d never find it again.
So I was back to dealing with the snake myself.
And by now you’re thinking (if you weren’t thinking it before), Grow some balls and just step on the fucking thing, Meghan.
But I couldn’t.
I know this makes me a total girl, but hooray for vaginas! Because I am a girl and I could not bring myself to step on the snake.
I pushed Tilley into her kennel to get her out of the way and then wrapped the whole mat up in a bundle. I carried it outside shuddering and cursing the whole way.
I flipped the mat over onto the sidewalk and for the third time did some more dance jump moves on it.
I looked again.
The tail… The blasted tail. How could it still be moving? How?!
Sobbing and horrified now I dashed back into the house and grabbed a laundry basket.
I shook the snake’s mostly limp body onto the cement. The tail curled helplessly back and forth.
I put the flat side of the laundry basket over the top of it and jumped up and down in the laundry basket begging the thing to die.
I lifted the basket away.
I saw an open mouth. I saw teeny, tiny snake guts. I saw a broken immobile body.
I whooped with joy.
I hope my neighbors weren’t watching.
I’m not going to pretend this was the most dignified way to kill a snake.
It’s maybe the most inefficient.
It also disqualifies me from ever being a true ‘country woman’.
Today’s silver lining: I killed a snake.
Oh my God I need a Xanex.
What’s your silver lining today? I love comments!
Don’t want to leave a comment, but have something you want to share? Send me an email at gettingthewordswrong(at)gmail(dot)com.