My hand fumbled over my nightstand; I was looking for my glasses to see what the hell was on TV at 3:00 a.m. It’s a common issue I have; needing some late night TV. It’s either TV or texting and generally, there’s only a few people who will text me back at 3:00 a.m. and while I love talking to them, it’s not always practical to wake them up just to say ‘hey, I’m awake, wanna play?’
So TV it is. What’s funny though, besides me needing glasses to watch TV, is the stuff my hand runs over before actually getting to them. So I turned on the light, looked at my nightstand and did a quick inventory. Here’s what I found:
The first thing I saw was my handgun. No, I don’t always have a gun on my nightstand. Well, not always anyway. Sometimes I have one in my purse. But I’ve kept it on my nightstand for the last two weeks and while I don’t advocate shooting people, I am a big fan of not being shot myself. And having a gun on your nightstand goes a long way towards not becoming another sad statistic. Truthfully, a certain tough persona comes along with having a gun on your nightstand that makes me feel all bad ass. And really, isn’t that what it’s all about?
My gun is sitting on the latest Victoria’s Secret catalogue. Hey, I’m not all paramilitary! I have a feminine side. And this gives you just a little insight as to what the hell goes on inside my head. What kind of crazy shit is rattling around in there? Who the hell carries a gun while wearing the Lacie? More people than you can imagine. There’s a lot of us out there…gun toting, push-up bra wearing modern women. The catalogue is well read, I pour over that thing like I’m studying for the MCAT’s. Pages are dogged down, items are circled, it’s like I’m doing a case study on boobs and rear ends. A lot rides on my selection of the perfect bra and panty. A lot.
Next we find my reading glasses, a/k/a the bifocals. I hate them. First, I look like Sarah Palin in them, well a blonde Sarah Palin anyway (she totes a gun, but does she sport a thong?). And I’m not saying Sarah Palin is ugly or anything. It’s just everything she says and everything she believes that’s ugly. Second, those bastardly bifocals, by simply being bifocals they remind me that I’m now old. I take growing old as a personal insult. How dare time march on and expect me to follow. Who do these ever so slight signs that my body is aging think they are? Do they think they’re natural? My head explodes at the tought. Thank you freaking pair of bifocals! You have ruined my life!
I’ve also got a good old fashioned paper book on my nightstand that I use to set my new fashioned tablet on. It gives me perspective when I’m feeling dowdy and remembering the days before Nook and Kindle when my friend and I swore we’d never get one because we ‘liked the feel of paper’ in our hands. Nowadays, I like the feel of 300 books in one place in my hands. Old gave way to new faster than you can say ‘stop right there! I got a gun on my nightstand!’
Well, haven’t come up with my TV glasses yet, but there’s also an empty plate on my nightstand. I know, I know, how gross of me, but it was from a late night craving. Not mine, my Shitzuh’s. Sometimes a dog gets hungry and just has to have her human fix her a little snack of some lunchmeat and cheese. I fed them to her while she sat on the bed in front of me, looking smug and satisfied that she drug my ass out of bed at midnight for a snack. I won’t even do that for my kids! But I’ll go to the kitchen and cut up meat and cheese for my dog!?! And of course I can’t trust the task to anyone else for fear they’d make too big of chunks and my poor pup would choke. The plate is now empty, not even my elusive glasses sit on it.
There’s also some foot cream to keep my heels nice and soft after traipsing over cement and grass and stone around my yard. In the summertime, shoes are only for work or a trip to the liquor store and if I could get away with going barefoot to either place, I would. If I’m on my home turf, my toes are out!
There’s a box of tissues on my nightstand too. The smelly kind. I’m addicted to the shit and have been known to grab one when I don’t even have a stuffy nose. I’ll just sniff (huff) them and let the mentholated vapor goodness calm me and help me drift off to a peaceful, chemical induced slumber. As an aside, I have a box of them at work too…like a pusher I dole them out to coworkers. We have huffing parties at my desk. (I’ll be interested to see my stats and those of you who found my blog by googling ‘huffing’. Gotcha!)
There’s also some loose change (odd, I never give change back!), a pair of keys which I have no clue what they go to, a lighter (I don’t smoke) and lip gloss. Of that list, the lip gloss is the least odd. Every girl needs some lip gloss by her bed. That way, when the home invaders come, you can swipe on some gloss, chamber a round in your gun and stand at the top of the steps in your Victoria’s Secret panties and shoot their asses Charlie Angel’s style.
Finally, I’ve found my TV glasses and can get back to the How It’s Made marathon. Good night!