The Hellhole

Tuesday, January 18, 2005

I was off yesterday but Alan wasn’t. As he rose and prepared for work, I woke briefly, then quickly fell back to sleep and dreamed. Sometimes I dream about getting up and getting ready for the day ahead, going through my usual morning routine; nothing particularly dreamlike and surreal happens, I just get dressed, do my hair and makeup, etc. Then once I get up and start going through that routine for real, I feel off-kilter because...didn’t I just do this? did I already take my allergy pill? - so it’s an odd, thirteen o’clock-ish feeling. I had that sort of dream, but with a twist involving, as do so many events in my life, poo.

In the dream, I got up and went about my morning routine and as I passed by the front bathroom I noticed that Finnovar’s automatic litterbox was turned off (we sometimes turn it off at night so the noise doesn’t wake us, and Alan turns it back on after his shower). The litterbox was overflowing with kitty-poo and, because there was no more room in the litterbox, kitty-poo was everywhere in the bathroom - a large glob on the rim of the toilet, a deposit in the sink, a couple on the tile near the litterbox, and a giant pile in the bathtub. EEEEEEUW! I walked to the utility room for Clorox disinfectant wipes, and there were more piles on various rugs. It was like the litterbox had been out of operation for two months, not two hours. (That, or my goal of becoming a Crazy Spinster Cat Lady had been realized, and The Finn had several dozen companions.)

Once in the kitchen, I noticed that all the pots and pans were out, piled in the sink and on the stove, and all the lower cabinet doors were missing! I called Alan at work to ask why he had neglected to activate the litterbox and left me to such horror, why all the pots and pans were out of place and what in HELL he’d done with my cabinet doors! He replied that he’d just forgotten about the box (innocently: “Why? Is it a problem?” -- oh, you have NO idea!) and he’d removed the pans and cabinet doors “because of the leak”. Sure enough, I looked and the pipe under the sink was GUSHING water. I was confused about how the pots and pans figured into this, because they live in a different, perpendicular cabinet, but I was also furious that he’d just blithely driven off to work leaving the leaking pipe gushing water in the kitchen. Why didn't he wake me, if he didn't have time to deal with it? His answer was so typically male that it isn’t even funny: he didn’t want to ruin my day off.

I sat down in the middle of the wet kitchen floor and cried, which was the end of the dream. Now, the interesting thing is that when I got up for real, and started to the kitchen for my morning allergy pill and Diet Coke, I couldn’t resist peeking in the front bathroom to reassure myself that all was well with the litterbox even though Alan never, never, ever forgets to turn it back on in the morning. Imagine my horror: it was turned off!!! There were several clumps, though not nearly so many as in my dream. But was that all? I couldn't be sure, so with trembling heart, trembling fingers and much trepidation, I reached for the shower curtain. Slowly, I pulled it backward, terrified that a huge, steaming pile of stinky kitty-poo awaited me!

Thankfully, all I saw was sparkling clean porcelain and, once I got to the kitchen, the pots and pans were in their proper place and the pipes were non-perforated. Thus endeth my brief stint into prescient dreams.



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