Friday, November 2, 2012
Chris decided to go watch the Chargers play at the stadium last night. Cash and I drove through McDonalds, sharing a hamburger, and had just snuggled up to a carton of frozen yogurt when the lights went out.
Every power source in the house whined as it slowly shut off. Sounds straight out of a horror film.
I wrapped one arm around the midget and crawled around the living room, searching for my phone to use as a light source. I used the phone to find a flashlight and went outside to see if it was just me, or if the whole block was out. My heart sank as I watched three neighbors get into their cars and leave, running from the darkness.
Did the radio warn everyone about a zombie apocalypse and I missed it because I was too busy enjoying yogurt and Judge Judy?!?
The problem is, I'm the PERFECT candidate for a zombie meal! I haven't worked out since the kidlet was born and my legs likely have a perfect marbling of fat. I'd be particularly delicious in a stew.
Cash and I sat on the floor near the front door, systematically shining the flashlight in the front yard, then to the back door, as if it would protect me like a light saber.
I Google researched the weaponry necessary to defeat zombies but got bored and went on Pinterest instead.
Two hours into the outage, Cash had fallen asleep on my lap and I had turned off the flashlight and rested my head against the door, staring into the blackness outside. A huge utility truck pulled in front of our house and a crew of four large men silently climbed my retaining wall and into my yard. This wouldn't be weird except... we have stairs. Not one of them used them. They chose to awkwardly climb the wall... like ZOMBIES.
I stopped breathing, wishing I had put a little more effort into the weaponry research.
Just as I was carefully moving Cash from my lap to the floor so I could grab the chainsaw from the garage, or at the very least, a cleaver from the drawer, the crew was climbing back down the wall and driving off in the truck.
It's been a rough week and well... I haven't showered for a few days. My face resembles a pubescent teenager and my hair is stringier than a straw broom. I've been sporting the same pajamas for a week. In short, I smell. I can only assume one thing...
they assumed I was already one of them.
I knew it. I just knew it.
Laziness and procrastination eventually pay off.