This has been a difficult holiday season. Marlyn was in a real funk. She nagged about everything. “The world sucks.” “We’re all gonna die in 2017; idiot president elect thinks nukes are toys.” “My damn toilet won’t stop running, it’s a sign.” “Marvin do something productive for once, go jiggle the damn flush handle.” I said, Marlyn that’s it. I draw the line right here. I am a personal muse not a toilet jiggler.
Nothing I did or said was right. I’m usually a good listener but the whining exceeded my capacity. So, I did what every understanding friend should do, I hid. It wasn’t too difficult. Marlyn had this enormous pile of miscellaneous papers and letters on her desk. I figured in her present mood she wouldn’t likely touch the Pile. So, one evening I slipped down under the bottom layer and chilled. It was a bit disorienting listening to her ranting without seeing her.
Four glorious days I spent there. I practically memorized the entire mammogram refusal notification letter that had kicked off Marlyn’s foul mood. The last day she was totally freaked that she couldn’t find me. “Damn it, Marvin. Where the hell are you?” She apologized a grand total of 73 times. Yep… I did count them. I figured I could store them for future reference. She found me when the
insurance company finally returned her call requiring that she retrieve the notification letter from within the Pile. When she saw me, she threw down the phone and smothered me with kisses. Until that moment, I had never realized how much I meant to her. Gratifying.
2018 looks better now. I’m ready.