Jane: “Mmmmmmm… Nothing like a leftover hot dog in the morning.”
Despite my exhaustion from the night before, I still could not manage to sleep through the night on that uncomfortable log. But even that couldn’t crush my mood today! It was going to be great. After learning how much money I could make from collecting (and, hopefully, with the money I could bring in with royalties), I would soon be living the good life. A bed and a kitchen and maybe even different rooms for everything! It would be grand.
But first things first: I would have to buy a trash can.
Jane: “Hot dog are delicious, but this plate on the floor is really gross.”
Despite the dirty plate on the floor, the unpainted walls, and the sub-par plumbing, something about this day made me strangely inspired. So, with a skip in my step, I started my morning at the library. Maybe, this early in the morning, no one would be around to bother me!
Tall Tales for Short Adults: I’m not short, nor do I now anything about short people. But I have lots of tall tales, and this title was catchy!
Jane: “…I really don’t know anything about short people. Or tall tales, really…”
Jane: “Imma google it…”
What a productive start to my morning! I managed to write while inspired for a full hour before getting tense, which felt like quite an accomplishment to me. I was practically a competent wordsmith!
But this new sense of confidence left me almost uncertain what to do with my day… Prior to this, I had been operating on a mode of half-desperation. Whatever I had to get done to survive, I got done. But now, there was nothing overly pressing. Even though Never Eat Your Pet Turtle had gotten a scant 3 simoleons in royalties, I felt confident in my ability to earn money. I had food in the fridge… I had just finished my third book…
I knew exactly what I would do! I would return home and take a well deserved break! Even though the log wasn’t that comfortable to nap on, it would be nice to be able to relax a little. And maybe, while I was lounging, I would come up with something nice to do.
And, lo and behold, the moment I fell asleep, it came to me. What I would do with my day today. Or rather, it called me up on the phone.
“Hey, can I come over?” It was Deandre.
Now, I wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about having anyone over to my hovel of a home. In truth, I was more than a little embarrassed of it. And especially to have Deandre see it, who seemed to be so collected and put together… Well, he had reason to be, he was a full-blown adult… But still, I didn’t want him to see me as a child. I could be so much more than that for him ❤
Jane: “Hey there, Deandre! I’m so glad you could make it!”
Deandre: “Thanks for having me over!”
Deandre: “Should I be worried about the fact that I can see through your walls?”
Jane: “Nah, just the fault of an amateur screenshot. Don’t worry about it.”
Now, I didn’t know much about Deandre. How could I have, we had only just met the day before! But, from what I knew, I knew that I liked him. And from his behavior-the touching, the hugging-it seemed like he liked me. At least a little.
You must understand, Janie. I was so lonely. And I had been for so long. Even though I was still getting my feet underneath me, I was convinced that things could only be improved by having a man in my life. I had never had a man in my life. Or a woman. Or any kind of significant other. Friends, sure. But nothing that had lasted. I wanted something that lasted.
More than that, I wanted a family. Coming from childhood with no parents, no support system, no nurturing influence, I knew what it was like to feel unloved. I wanted to make sure that my child never felt that way.
…don’t say anything, Janie. I know I didn’t do a good job of it. In my defense, I had no conception of what made a good mother. I thought it would largely involve giving birth to you and then loving you with all my heart, which I did and still do. I thought keeping you would be enough of a show of love. Obviously, I was naive…
Jane: “So, Deandre. Have you read the newest mystery novel by Lewis Bradshaw? No?? You should, it’s excellent. Complex characters, intriguing plot-”
Deandre: “You know, I’m really not a big reader.”
Jane: “Oh… So, you don’t like to read… Yeah, you know, I don’t really either…”
In only a few hours, I was already smitten with Deandre. My only problem? I didn’t know if he felt the same way.
Jane: “You know, I just think you’re so sexy. I’m so glad you called me over for burgers in the park the other day.”
Deandre: “Ummm… you know I’m married, right?”
…Not the reaction I had hoped for. I should have asked if he was single before confessing my attraction, I suppose…
Jane: “WAHHHHHHHH” *runs away*
Deandre: “Um, I guess that’s goodbye then?”
At the time, I was devastated. It was ridiculous. I was getting so worked up over a stupid little crush that had only been stewing for a few days. Deandre and I weren’t even good friends! But, even as I repeated all this to myself, I couldn’t help but cry myself to sleep on that uncomfortable little log. Deandre had denied me. How uncomfortable! How embarrassing! How heartbreaking! How would I ever face the world again?
In the moment, I decided that, in fact, I would not face the world again. I would go to sleep. Everything would be better in the morning.
Jane: “Why does he hate me, Jimmy?? Why doesn’t Deandre like me??”
Except, I couldn’t sleep until the morning. I couldn’t even sleep until after midnight. I’m not sure what I should have expected, considering that I usually couldn’t sleep all the way through the night when I went to bed at a normal hour. Falling asleep at four in the afternoon? There was no way I could have made it until the sun rose.
So, at eleven that night, I gave up on trying to sleep.
Jane: “Ayyy, this is a nifty rock!”
Jane: “I’m imagining it’s Deandre’s head!”
Jane: “Look, a frog house!”
Jane: “I’ll rip you from your homes like Deandre ripped out my heart!”
Jane: “And another rock? What luck!”
Jane: “Another Deandre head to smash in!”
I was… a little angry. I thought I had a chance at being with someone compatible. Another loner! Just like me! But then he had to rip it away from me because he was “married.” Ugh.
As it turned out, however, there was quite a significant benefit to imagining myself murdering Deandre with a pickax. Because, of course, I had to go sell them.
I was at the pawn shop, pulling my assorted rocks and fossils and frogs out of my backpack, when I accidentally yanked out the voodoo doll too. I had forgotten about that thing! It flopped out onto the counter, as ugly and weird looking as it had been yesterday.
But, when I reached to put the thing back in my bag, sure that the pawn store owner wouldn’t want anything to do with the raggedy old thing, he stopped me.
He grabbed my hand before I could put the voodoo doll back in my bag.
Owner: “Is that a voodoo doll?”
Jane: “Um, yeah. I guess so. Ugly little thing, isn’t it? Don’t worry about it, I won’t try to sell the stupid thing to you.”
I tried again to put the doll back in my bag.
Owner: No, wait! I want to buy it. What can I pay you for it?”
Clearly he wanted the thing. And I was not in the position to play hardball.
Jane: “If you want it, pay me whatever you like. I think it’s creepy. I don’t want it on my hands.”
Owner: “950 simoleons!”
My jaw dropped.
Jane: “…950?? Simoleons??”
I was so astonished that I stuttered.
Owner: “Is that not a good price for you?”
Jane: “No! No, that’s perfect! For 950 simoleons, this things is all yours!”
I practically threw it at him. Once he had handed me the money, I raced from the shop, cash in hand. I was going to a furniture store, dammit! I had a bed to buy!
Jane: “My house looks so much better like this! It has paint! And a light! And a trash can!”
Jane: “Oh, bed sweet bed! And a stump for my sweet Jimmy to sit on! And paint on all the walls!”
Jane: “This is the life.”
Was I still angry at Deandre? Absolutely. He had broken my heart with his preexisting marital status, the butthead. I could barely stand to look at him after that, much less attempt to be friends still.
But none of that mattered anymore. I had a bed. I could sleep. Comfortably. From the moment I laid my head on that blow up mattress, I could have no worries. Everything was glorious.
Thank the creator for that ugly little voodoo doll.