Thursday, February 5, 2009

In Which I May Need An Exorcism

I don't know how to say this without sounding crazy, but I think my apartment is possessed.

There has been some strange and unexplainable events as of late that could indicate the presence of a poltergeist, involving some of the furniture in my bedroom. Specifically, the furniture designed to hold The Boss' clothes. 

It happens a couple of times a month, so I've gotten used to it by now. The first time it happened, though, I was shocked.

I had just returned home from work, and when I went upstairs to the bedroom, all of The Boss' clothes were strewn around the room. Five of the six drawers to her dresser were open, clothes hanging out of them. The contents to her plastic hamper had been dumped over in a slumping pile, and her pajamas were twisted together in a knot on the floor next to the bed. Her closet door was wide open, showing another pile of clothing that had previously been on hangers, while some of them still clung to the hanger by one shoulder. 

I paused in the doorway, mouth agape, and assessed the damage. It was as if a small hurricane had passed through the room. Stepping carefully on the patches of carpet amid the clothing, I noticed that her towel, still damp from her shower, was in a heap on my side of the bed. Oh, did I not mention the bed? The covers and sheets were in such disarray that I had no choice but to assume that the ghosts had done that too, unless The Boss had dreamt about becoming a whirling dervish

There was so much textile chaos that I knew something other-worldly must be afoot. This wasn't the first time we suspected there to be ghosts in our apartment, but this was entirely different. No human being could cause this much of a mess in the early hours of the morning. I asked The Boss about it when she came home from work that evening.

"Have you seen the mess upstairs?" I asked.

"Yeah, I know," she replied, "I'll pick it up later tonight."

"It's quite a disaster zone up there," I said. "Like Hurricane Katrina, the home game."

The Boss chuckled politely.

"I hope FEMA responds better this time around. Bush is out of office, so by all rights they should be on the scene by nightfall," I continued, hoping to get her to laugh.

She stared at me for a moment, and turned back to the magazine she had picked up.

"I mean, I don't think we need to call the National Guard or have the Red Cross come set up a shelter or anyth-"

"Alright! I was running late this morning, okay? I couldn't pick it up before I left! I said I'll take care of it!" The Boss snapped.

The harsh tone of voice and the stern expression on her face told me all I needed to know: 

She, too, was worried about the poltergeist.

I've been trying to see if there is any pattern to the incidents, but so far the only link I can make is that the incidents tend to happen on the days that The Boss is late for work. The poltergeist must be triggered by stress. At any rate, these incidents have happened so many times since that first time, it is now almost common place. I don't even notice the camisoles or jeans or dirty socks on the floor anymore, nor do I complain about the damp towel that always seems to curl up on my side of the bed. It is all just part of the routine. 

The Boss gets upset each time I mention the mess, so for the most part I let it slide. After all, it's perfectly acceptable to be afraid of ghosts. No need to make things uncomfortable. She'll get to picking up the mess eventually.

Like the ghost, she will do what she wants, when she wants. Who am I to protest?


Moonspun said...

I just laughed aloud! Great post! I bet the poltergeists maybe know the Boss is late and they want to make sure she sees all options of clothing before she gets dressed. The last thing you want to have is what I call a 'clothes crisis' (where you can't decide what to wear even though your drawers are full because it seems like you have nothing to wear) when you are late!

Kat said...

I would just close your mouth and back away slowly ;)

Russ said...

You may need to back off the Stephen King for a little while!

MIT Mommy said...

We have that same poltergeist.

Okay, okay, I'll clean my room =).

splodge said...

Didn't you know the technical name for a mess like that is 'ordered chaos'?

Employee No. 3699 said...

"The harsh tone of voice and the stern expression on her face told me all I needed to know:

She, too, was worried about the poltergeist."

Diet Pepsi just came out my nose. It stings! That was friggin' funny.

Lola said...

I'm the ghost; the ghost is me! Only I throw my wet towels on the floor by the cellar door, and there are single shoes thrown everywhere missing the one match that would get me out the damn door.

x said...

That's one excuse Jake hasn't thought of yet.

Miss Grace said...

Did you just give me permission to blame my messy apartment on a ghost? I could kiss you!

Jen W said...

I often wonder about a poltergeist in my children's rooms.

areason2write said...


Cape Cod Gal said...

It was me and Lola. We were having a party in your bedroom.


I do the same thing when I'm late. It's like a tornado swept thru our room and the bathroom.

Badass Geek said...

Moonspun: I don't know. I never seem to have a problem picking out clothes. I guess jeans and a t-shirt just isn't that complicated.

Kat: Good advice. It was scary.

Russ: Maybe you're right...

MIT Mommy: They're everywhere!

Splodge: The Boss has tried to pull that on me before, and I'm not falling for it.

Employee No 3699: Yikes! Do you need a tissue?

Lola: The wet towel thing bugs me the most. Why my side of the bed?

X: Feel free to pass it along.

Miss Grace: Okay, right here on the cheek.

Jen W: Be afraid. Be very afraid.

A Reason 2 Write: Thank you!

Cape Cod Gal: Ah, just like in my dreams.



Jordan said...

Set up a webcam ol' boy.

Erin said...

Wonderful advice for husbands! LOL!

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