Wrong Turns, Windows and Lamps

Adam left town last night and, per routine, strange things happened when I returned home from the airport. It seems like whenever Adam is gone, something weird happens that makes me feel slightly on edge and a little...uncomfortable.

I took Adam to the airport where he was to fly home for his family's annual trip to Canada. I can't go this year because I just started that new job and it seemed wrong to take more time off.

It was bad enough to say, 'Okay, I'm going to need at least a day in October. Then three weeks in November. And I'll probably only be working here a year anyway because I want to go to grad school,' without adding some August days-off to the list.

I left the airport feeling sorry for myself because I can't go to Canada and because I'm going to be Adam-less for a while. And I missed my exit off the highway and ended up going west instead of east.

This happens every time I drop him off there. I end up driving west. Maybe my subconscious self is trying to follow him in his airplane trek across the country.

But that sounds overly romantic. Even for me. Maybe I'm just distracted thinking about which all-male revue I'm going to patronize first.

Right.

So I finally get home and I take a look at our apartment. I've always thought of my cat Moo Shu as a little furry alarm system. If she is out and about when I get home, then I know there are no strangers (evil or otherwise) lurking in the apartment.

Last night, Moo Shu was nowhere to be found.

So I start to make the grand-rounds of our tiny apartment. I check the bathtub. And the closet. I look under the bed and the couch. When I'm certain there is no boogey-man hiding in the apartment, I lock all the doors. (Because, if I locked them before I checked for the 'bad man,' then when I find him I will have locked myself in with him. Not a good idea.)

Then I find Moo Shu in the toilet paper roll filled box above the shower (she's a little neurotic) and all is right with the world. I grab my book and a large glass of 2 Buck Chuck and make myself as comfortable on the couch as I can with two cats clamoring for that cat-coveted-sleeping-spot of my chest.

I barely make it past the introduction to my book when I hear a harmonica. Outside my window. Interesting....

I turn off the light so I can get up and look out the window without anyone on the street seeing me. Because I am also a little neurotic...where do you think my cat got it from?

I look out the window and that is when I realize that the harmonica player is a man. And he's standing directly below my living room window. And he's looking up. And I don't know him.

For a brief second, I think, 'Awww, I have a harmonica-playing admirer' until my next thought of 'Ewww, I have a harmonica-playing admirer' takes over.

Maybe he has the wrong house. Maybe he is actually serenading my downstairs neighbor and he just happened to glance up when I looked out the window. She seems far more likely to attract admirers....especially the harmonica-playing type. If I were to have an admirer, he'd be more likely to play a triangle.

While I'm thinking these thoughts, he abruptly stops and walks away. And leaves me with my imagination running wild. I decide it is high time to head to bed and I tip-toe away, clutching my book and my glass of wine to my chest, with my cats trailing behind.

I spent a while getting situated in bed, with a brief detour to the back door in order to jam a table up against it, and try to take my mind of my mysterious visitor. I prop myself up against some pillows and continue reading my book by the light of the wall-mounted lamp next to the bed.

I'm engrossed in the book and at the dregs of the wine when that wall-mounted lamp slowly goes out. The room is suddenly (or, I guess, slowly) filled with darkness.

I freeze. My eyes widen. I think, of course, that my harmonica-playing admirer has sneaked in and turned off my electricity. That's when I notice the alarm clock's green numbers are still glowing. I slowly reach out an arm and flick the switch for the bedside lamp.

It comes on. My electricity still works. There is no harmonica wielding crazy man in my apartment. The light bulb just burned out. That's when I decide to just go to sleep. Because, honestly, my dreams can't be much weirder than this.

(But of course they were....and that is a story for another day.)