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Tales of a Post-Grad Nothing

Friday, November 18, 2005

Here's the thing about living together: sometimes it's both fantastic and awful. Tonight I went to see The Exorcism of Emily Rose at my favorite movie theatre in the entire world and right now, at 3:20 in the morning (I usually work nights), I am literally sitting here writing to you good people, sincerely afraid that, yes you guessed it, the devil might be coming after me right this minute. The smart thing to do would be to hold on to your significant other and hope, maybe even pray, that the holy power of love is enough to repel the forces of darkness, sending them back to the crevices of evil from wence they came. That plan sounds like a good idea except I know that if I go crawling with fear into the room "where all the magic happens," my significant other is going to look at me and say, "That's why I don't go to scary movies," which really means "Look at me and what good decisions I make. Don't you wish you made decisions as well as I do? Hmmm?" and then I'll be forced to return to my office (where the holy power of love is not to be found) and play Nesticle games and heavily weigh whether Satan or my boyfriend is more asinine.

Relying on my own demon-hunting prowess, I keep looking for signs that the Dark Lord might try to infiltrate this fine-ass body of mine. So far what's happened tonight is:

1) The ice maker came on, prompting me to ask is the devil in my fridge?
I found a highlighter while rummaging through a closet, is God sending me a sign?
My cold sore continued hurting...this is the only one that hasn't warranted spiritual questioning.

When I don't make my deadlines tomorrow and I have to tell a contractor, "yeah, I couldn't get this turned in because I was sincerely afraid that the devil might possess me," I actually might just change my name and move to a new state out of humiliation. The children are right to laugh at you Couch.


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