Reanimated after Death in the Unemployment Pit.

On the back shelf of my musty brain, I found emergency reserves of optimism to keep my thoughts afloat, not adrift, mind you. Otherwise, I’d be doing the doggy paddle in a sewer somewhere with the rats that stole my ego.

I eventually got my ego back, not from the rats. I grew a new one.

The not so secret ingredients. Manure, sunlight and fairy dust.

Thankfully, I wasn’t allergic to manure or fairy dust. I just gagged from the stench. Fairies never bath and to make things worse, flap their wings, so the scent of their body odor wafts throughout the house. Damn fairies.

For months, I had to watch where I stepped. When fairies tire, they sleep where they drop. Contrary to popular belief, fairies do not nap while they flap in mid air. So, walking becomes treacherous for humans (and especially for fairies), trying to avoid the splat of a sprite, only later to find sprite splatter at the bottom of your shoe.

That’s when dogs come in handy. They eat anything that lands on the floor. Every time a dog ingests a fairy, a bell rings because they ate their wings.

This time there weren’t any fairy DOAs to report to the CSI unit (Crime Sirens Investigation). When a CSI unit dusts for prints, the fairy remains scatter and the investigation shuts down.

Luckily, the fairies flourished and my ego grew, as thoughts regenerated, allowing happy go lucky synapses to again frolic in my brain. I just couldn’t stand the noise. Synapses are loud when they frolic. They also order kegs of beer and boxes of pepperoni pizza. Always a big mess afterward. Half-eaten slices of pizza and plastic cups litter the frontal lobe.

That’s when I stop working on my resume and pretend that I’m lying on a beach in Jamaica, drinking rum punch and getting a three-degree burn. I snap back to reality and find that I am in fact drinking a rum punch while being splattered with hot grease from a pan of sauteing meat. I didn’t remember buying the meat, or if there was a car involved.

Too much manure and fairy BO I dare say. I was overcome by the toxic cloud, but my ego now an expert in unemployment roll survival, wore a gas mask and escaped the crippling effects of the shit storm.

I wish I had stepped in it instead.

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10 Comments Reanimated after Death in the Unemployment Pit.


    OMG Lauren! It's unbelievable how much inner strength and humor you possess. BTW, I appreciate the heads-up about fairies' sleeping habits. I think it explains the constant dust on my floor.

  2. Lauren

    Snee: Thanks! My inner strength and humor is being severely tested this week. Likely, I've stepped on a fairy or two. LOL! Dust on the floor definitely attributed to fairy DOAs.

  3. Sandee

    I've learned so much over here. Stuff I didn't want to know and stuff I did want to know.

    I've got an awful visual on the dog and the cat box. I've been giving our dog the stink eye because of that too. Bwahahahahahaha.

    Have a terrific day. 🙂

  4. Lauren

    Sandee: I think your dog is giving you to the stink eye, too. We had to put a lock on the door to keep the dog out of the room with the cat box. Every now and then, she noses the door to see if it will budge. Have a great day.

  5. Greg

    You are strong indeed to maintain your sense of humor through your last week, stronger indeed to stomach faerie sprite..

    Good luck!


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