I stepped on something

Last night, I walked out onto my back patio, barefoot. Big mistake. You see, it’s been raining. It’s been storming and raining. And the infamous TI winds had blown over my little plant. So, I tiptoed across the concrete to right it. It was dark, and I guess I wasn’t really paying attention. On the way back to the back door, I felt something slimy under my toe. I guess the rain had brought the slugs out. If you know me, you know my weaknesses are slugs and snails. I can deal with some spiders. I catch those bad boys, and release them outside. But slugs. UH UH! No way! So, unless you were spying on me, you missed out on a spectacular mini-freak out. I lept back into the apartment, and wiped all over the carpet, squirming all the while. I jumped up and down a few times. And then, slowly, I turned my foot over, to make sure that he hadn’t hitched a ride somehow. Bllleeeehhhhh. I hate slugs. I’ll probably be one in my next life. I hope no one pours salt on me.

Where am I supposed to be standing?

I noticed at a party the other day that I have returned to my awkwardly hovering ways.  I never seem to be in the right place at gatherings, or in the right conversations.   So, I end up standing there, pretending to look at something, trying really hard to be distracted.   Or at least look distracted enough so that people don’t wonder why I’m standing there, near by a conversation, but not quite in it.   So please, if you see me standing close at hand, staring a little too hard at your Christmas tree or bean dip, say ‘hi’.   Maybe it’ll snap me out of it.