Just call me Zelda then Maggot Sunday
My friend Liz got married last Saturday. It was awesome. We did full on Gatsby attire in a restored Art Deco Penthouse that looked over the LA skyline. I looked at the best man Ric and asked, "Do you ever stop, look around and think 'how did I manage to get here?'"
He shrugged, "No."
I tried to explain, "I mean like something is so cool, and so beautiful that you're amazed you get to be here."
He smiled, "Yes, I have felt lucky like that."
We give each other a quiet fist bump, and gaze once more at the glittering city. It was an elegant wonderful evening. Scott and I bailed around 11pm. I had a long day of massage ahead of me. I have to leave by 9:30 am the next morning. I wake the next morning, make coffee, feed the pets, drag the trash can out to toss the cat food can, and stare in bleary horror at the trail of maggots on the rug in front of the oven.
Shudder.
I pull myself together. I am an adult. I will not run screaming. I grab a paper towel. Dealt with. I do a little gross out dance. You know the one. You jog in place tightly holding your arms in T-Rex pose and shuddering in disgust. I gathered my wits and coffee and went outside to shake off my hangover in peace. (less about the booze, more about spending the whole day in heels, getting my hair professionally done then make up, then being a fabulous matron of honor, speech and all, while still partying like the old rock whore I am) I feel tired and stupid in the morning. I'm lagging by 3 seconds. Scott and I compare aches and pains. He always wins cause he's older. He goes in the kitchen to refill his cup and is horrified to find maggots on the rug in front of sink.
Why the big maggot infestation? Two weeks ago I cleaned the kitchen floors then threw the rugs outsid eto clean later. It rained two days then they dried up in the sun. I scrubbed them with carpet cleaner, rinsed them, and brought them after they dried. Apparently flies laid eggs in them, and Sunday morning was maggot day. Ewwwww!
He shrugged, "No."
I tried to explain, "I mean like something is so cool, and so beautiful that you're amazed you get to be here."
He smiled, "Yes, I have felt lucky like that."
We give each other a quiet fist bump, and gaze once more at the glittering city. It was an elegant wonderful evening. Scott and I bailed around 11pm. I had a long day of massage ahead of me. I have to leave by 9:30 am the next morning. I wake the next morning, make coffee, feed the pets, drag the trash can out to toss the cat food can, and stare in bleary horror at the trail of maggots on the rug in front of the oven.
Shudder.
I pull myself together. I am an adult. I will not run screaming. I grab a paper towel. Dealt with. I do a little gross out dance. You know the one. You jog in place tightly holding your arms in T-Rex pose and shuddering in disgust. I gathered my wits and coffee and went outside to shake off my hangover in peace. (less about the booze, more about spending the whole day in heels, getting my hair professionally done then make up, then being a fabulous matron of honor, speech and all, while still partying like the old rock whore I am) I feel tired and stupid in the morning. I'm lagging by 3 seconds. Scott and I compare aches and pains. He always wins cause he's older. He goes in the kitchen to refill his cup and is horrified to find maggots on the rug in front of sink.
Why the big maggot infestation? Two weeks ago I cleaned the kitchen floors then threw the rugs outsid eto clean later. It rained two days then they dried up in the sun. I scrubbed them with carpet cleaner, rinsed them, and brought them after they dried. Apparently flies laid eggs in them, and Sunday morning was maggot day. Ewwwww!
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