I Like to Be Here When I Can

30 Minus 2 Days of Writing (2013)
Day 18: “Home at last”

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Under the best of all circumstances, home is a place where you can hide away from all of the tiresome pettiness that mucks up the quality of your days. Yet no matter what you do, things rarely ever skew the way you’d like them to, and circumstances regularly fall somewhere outside the realm of ideal. Whenever I come home after a long day of work, for instance, all I want to do is take a seat, shed my stress, and enjoy my little haven away from the responsibilities and irritations of the outside world. Lately though, circumstances rarely afford me the opportunity to enjoy some peace and quiet at home without a constant stream of interruptions.

As soon as I come home, my two cats swarm me at the door and beg me for attention. It’s always the same thing each afternoon.

“Meow, meow. KZ, please pet me. Meow. KZ, please feed me. Meow. KZ, let’s play. Meow. KZ, clean our litter box. Meow, meow. KZ, what are your thoughts on the rampant international utilization of the economic protectionist policy whereby nations artificially devalue their currencies in an effort to gain a trade advantage in the global market?”

Wait, what?

“Meow?”

Huh…

Anyway, after I’m done with the cats, that’s usually the time when Diana swoops in to talk to me about the minutia of wedding venue decoration. We’re getting married in September. “Yes, Diana, I agree. Up-lighting and dendrobium orchids sound amazing. Oh, the centerpieces will have clear vase filler stones? That’s fascinating. No, I’m not sleeping with my eyelids wide open.”

Later in the night, my mother would be likely to call me on the phone asking me to help her proofread an e-mail before she mails it out to her lunch buddies. Retired life must be good. While my mother is talking on the phone, my father will take the opportunity to jump on the line so that he can remind me to check the air pressure in my tires, and to keep an eye on the remaining mileage on my car before my next oil change.

After a solid twelve minutes of speaking to my parents, I am finally able to relax. That would, of course, be the perfect time to receive a robo-call from Citi Cards Fraud Prevention Services.

Hello, KZ. Oh, sorry — hola, KZ. ¿Hablas español?

Oh, okay, you speak English. Let’s continue. You are receiving this call because Citi Cards Fraud Prevention Services has detected some unusual activity on your credit card account. Apparently on your way to work this morning, you made a purchase of $5.45 for a cup of coffee and a muffin at a coffee shop located 1.5 miles away from your billing address. The nature of this transaction baffled us so, that we have decided to freeze your credit card account unless you can confirm that you were the one who made the purchase. To confirm this was you, please press 1 now.

Thank you for pressing 1. We will now transfer your call to a customer service representative so that you can redundantly re-confirm the validity of your purchase to a real person.

All lines are busy. Please hold for the next available agent.

Dear God, all I want is a little time to myself so that I can relax.

Before you know it, it’s already bedtime. So I shut down my computer, brush my teeth, and take a shower. I kiss Diana goodnight, and I slip under my bed sheets in a contemplative mood. Life may be full of it’s invasive little annoyances that have an unfortunate way of following you home, but how can I really complain about two loving cats, a wonderful fiancée, two supportive parents, and a healthy line of credit? Life will always be marked by its petty irritations, but speaking on my own behalf, life can been pretty damn good. It’s good to be home.

Then, as I lay my head down to rest, I come to a sudden realization: Nicky and Mike are expecting me to post a new blog entry today. No place is safe. Not even home. I’m so tired.

30 Minus 2 Days of Writing (2013)
A painful exercise in forced inspiration brought to you by
“We Work for Cheese“