He Was an Asshole Snake

Just survived my first home invasion.

Mostly because Batman’s always on duty. Although it took him watching ALL OF THE Arrow to believe me that I wasn’t being delusional, that there actually was a snake in the living room and not, as he claimed, the fan rustling a bag of extension cords.

I need my eyes checked. He’s been claiming it for months. So, who cares that I squint to see far away. I’m not freaking Superman, over here. And, okay yes, sometimes I need an extra eye rub to erase all the fuzziness. Doesn’t mean I don’t know a bobbing snake head when I see one. Especially since his slithering tail was a damn giveaway and caused the initial scream in the first place.

“THERE’S A SNAKE! THERE’S A SNAKE! KILL IT! KILL IT!”

Batman, while still playing XBOX, glanced over all nonchalant. “Stop April Foolsing.”

“I’m NOT! There is a SNAKE and I SWEAR TO GOD I saw him.”

And because Batman loves me (and, probably fear of the possibility) he proceeded to ‘check’ the television by poking around the tv base with a broom while banging it against the wall and door. But nothing. Not a peep. Not as much as a tail wag or a head pop. There was nothing behind the television or in the plastic bag of extension cords. Batman made sure of it. He picked the bag up and spilled out all the contents, right there on my recently mopped floor.

“There’s no snake here. Maybe you imagined it.”

“I did NOT imagine. I saw it. I saw its little head pop out and it looked around and then it slithered away.”

“But I don’t see a snake.”

“Well obviously he’s good at hiding.”

After another thorough search of the living room, Batman threw in the towel. I was imagining things. It was the fan rustling the bag and I’ve needed to have my eyes checked for a while anyway. And he was missing playing his XBOX and the Arrow was on too. I needed to sit down, forget the ‘imaginary’ snake (whom I lovingly referred to as Mr. Hiss) and relax.

And then Batman walked past the television. And all hell broke loose.

It’s happens very rarely, but sometimes I catch glimpses of my boyfriend morphing into the planet’s deadliest warrior. It’s like he’s been passed down this supreme responsibility of hunt-and-attack with the weight of the world, and of protecting his dominion, bearing down on him. When Batman saw that little black bastard, all bets were off. It was kill or be killed time. It was do or do not; there was no trying. Once that snake goofed up and revealed itself, it’d signed its death certificate because Batman WOULD NOT STOP.

There was a lot of yelling to twist here! and grab me a knife! and hurry, hurry, hurry!

little bastard.

little bastard.

Due to his highly trained ass-kicking ways, Batman managed to corner the intruder with a shovel tip to the neck. Then, (I kid you not) proceeded to stab it with a knife since he couldn’t get the right angle with the shovel. There was some more yelling about how he’s not getting away and there was no chance in HELL and then Batman decapitated Sir Hiss.

And it was gross.

Super, super gross.

Now Batman’s walking around feeling like a snake-slaying warrior. All baddass and don’t mess with me motherfuckers I just slayed a mini dragon. It’s kind of cute.

I felt bad for the snake for only an instant and then remembered he hid from us and made my boyfriend question my sanity for OVER AN HOUR. No, fuck that snake. He wasn’t cuddly like Sir Hiss. He was an asshole snake. And deserved an asshole snake death. Good riddance.

 

Ew.

Ew.

Moral of the story? Believe your girlfriend when she tells you she sees a damn snake.

He’s there. Trust her.

Self Doubt, Thou Art a Bitch

Happy first Wednesday to writers everywhere and all you A-Z Challenge Bloggers—I wish you good luck, a whole lot of sanity and a happy month of writing 🙂

IWSG (Insecure Writers Support Group) posts the first Wednesday of every month and is a place to share your worries and doubts and fears and all those other fun elements of what it means to be a writer. Started by Ninja Captain Alex Cavanaugh, you can find more information about the group along with the blog hop list here. So go visit, make some friends and be cheered up that you’re not in this alone in this crazy lifestyle 🙂

My insecurity this month (and kind of like, my entire life) is that awesome enemy of creativity: self doubt.

Because the past week or so, one thought’s been circulating every time I open the laptop.

What the fuck am I doing?

I’ll reread a few paragraphs and squint in dismay. DISMAY at what I wrote. And then I think, uh, how long have you been writing, girl? And you came up with that? Sheesh.

We all go through it; I know we do. Doesn’t soften the blow when you reread your words and sit there contemplating if you really hated being a receptionist that much because hey, they have good health insurance and potlucks once a month. So maybe it’s better to not go for your dreams and decide to be more practical because no one’s going to want to read your shitty words anyway. Am I right, guys?

NO I AM NOT.

Fuck being a receptionist and having awesome health insurance and eating at work potlucks. I can microwave my own damn food and avoid falling into pot holes and work on what really matters, not typing up someone else’s agenda or answering phones and directing calls. Because even though my words suck today, I’ll make them better tomorrow or next week. Writing is rewriting. Faith is believing even when you’re squinting in dismay and seriously considering going for your third glass of wine because what the hell are you doing with your life.

So repeat after me:

I SHALL RISE AND CONQUER THIS BITCH.

What about you? Have you been feeling good about your work lately? Or are you struggling with motivation and faith? Tell me I’m not the only one who plays this wine-inducing questioning game on a regular basis. Please.

Oh self doubt, thou art a bitch.