Home Alone

This was finals week at the community college where I am studying nursing. Nursing is a challenging major, not an easy ride like say electrical engineering or quantum physics because if nurses can’t cut it people die. It’s not that easy-peasey stuff like a hundred thousand new cars won’t start or your theory won’t win a prize at some international festival for geek heads that involves major foreign policy.

Because nursing is challenging, I study a great deal just to get through it. I am not actually sure how I am going to make it through the whole thing. My son told me that I cannot possibly be a nurse because I could not stand to touch or dissect the dead rat back in my first Anatomy and Physiology Lab. I told him that nurses don’t deal with rats. I would not flinch at dissecting up a dead human because I like humans. I do not like rats in any form, living or dead.

At any rate, I was Home Alone this almost Christmas week, and a very strange and scary thing happened. I was down in the basement laundry room with all of my school stuff spread out all over the folding table. Originally, I thought it would be a good idea to have Christmas music softly playing in the background. I was feeling really stressed about studying and eventually the music became kind of annoying, so I did not put in another CD when that one finished, but I needed to turn off the CD player (Does anyone else still even have CD players? I inherited this one from one of my kids when they moved out. I love it.). The door to the office/exercise room where the CD player is located was closed. I did not remember closing it actually, but during every finals week there are frequently lots of little details, like my name, that slide out of my mind. Hmm. I turned the knob and attempted to open the door, but when the door was open just a few inches, I met with resistance on the other side. Not only was there resistance, but it felt like someone was trying to push the door shut. There was push back.

No one is home, but me. This is creepy.

Ordinarily if something of this nature happened, I would be running through the house as fast as my old lady legs could carry me up the stairs and out of the front door. Shrieking. Screaming. I think that my brain was just battle weary from studying for the huge comprehensive final because I did something that I would Never Ever Ordinarily Do. I just started being aggressive and pushing back even harder.

It turns out that my giant yoga ball had escaped from its normal storage place and was behind the door.

When I discovered this, my little heart started really pitter-pattering because I thought to myself, “What in the world would I have done if it had not been the yoga ball?”

It was like the ‘thought-consequences’ of my action caught up with me when it was too late for me to the thing that actually seemed reasonable to my mind if it was any week other than finals week.

I did not know whether to feel like a proud hero or a complete fool who could have been killed by a home intruder if only home intruders were red, shiny and so fat that they have to roll around on the floor.

No one knows about this but me and you and Aimee because I told her about it today.

I have decided to be the Yoga Ball Hero of Unknown Possibilities, and not the other thing.

I passed my final. Afterwards, I stopped at one of my favorite thrift stores and found found plastic Spiderman plates. I want to put Christmas cookies on them and give them away to my neighbors and significant other people. That’s something that a Yoga Ball Hero of Unknown Possibilities would do. You know it is.




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