Why the Incompetent Should Not Own Homes

It's a Metaphor. For Me. DO YOU GET IT?

It’s a Metaphor. For Me. DO YOU GET IT?

SO, here was my morning:

At ~6AM I was in bed, having an unusual dream involving a cousin I didn’t recognize who refused to leave my house. He kept slinking around and grinning and every time I told him it was time for him to leave he would smirk and saunter away. It was probably Sean Ferrell invading my dreams. Again.

At some point I realized that in my dream my doorbell was ringing. You know where this is going. My doorbell was actually ringing in real life. I woke up to find myself smothered by cats, none of whom seemed to like this new idea of me getting out of bed. Getting them to release me was like conducting negotiations with warlords in a language you don’t understand.

In my skivvies, I answered the door. It was a neighbor who’d gone out for a run and locked himself out of the house on the coldest, wettest, snowiest morning ever. Serves him right for exercising. My neighborly duty done, I went back for another hour of sleep.

HELLO I MUST BE A MORON

Upon waking, I discovered a leak in the living room, in a spot that’s been leaking no matter what we do to fix the problem, for centuries now. It is some sort of Eternal Leak, placed there by god as a fixed point in time or something that can’t be changed. It’s frustrating.

Knowing that sometimes our gutters on the roof above get frozen and this contributes to the problem, I grabbed a broom and hauled myself out the window onto our second-floor roof to do battle with the gutters. I carefully stepped around the skylight, cleaned the gutters as best I could, then turned and saw a cat about to leap through the window I’d left open.

Our cats are not wild animals. They are fat, lazy, aristocratic animals who think they can wander on the roofs in the snow for a while and somehow not get lost and freeze to death. So I panicked, and began running for the window to prevent disaster. And my feet went out from under me, and I fell backwards, right onto our skylight, which promptly cracked open like an egg. How I didn’t wind up dead on the dining room floor below remains a mystery. It might have something to do with that fixed point in time I mentioned.

SO now our skylight is wrapped in a blue tarp and I am preparing to write checks to contractors. Probably for the best. That money was just going to get me into trouble anyway.

7 Comments

  1. Patty Blount

    OMG! I am so sorry to hear this. So glad you didn’t get hurt.

  2. Jen Donohue

    Early in the reading, I thought “Man, a skylight. I wish I had a skylight.”

    I no longer wish I had a skylight.

  3. Dawn

    Holy OW! Glad you’re okay.

    Blame Sean.

  4. Diana

    Oh Jeff! I’m sorry that that tale is just so funny! But I’m glad you’re OK. You need to check for nearby security cameras to see if anyone caught this. Or just check youtube, where it is bound to be a hit. I’m glad it was only the skylight that cracked.

  5. jsomers (Post author)

    Thanks, Diana! Yes, since I survived it would be really amusing. I hope that Google Maps caught me lying there, dazed.

  6. jsomers (Post author)

    Skylights are cool.

  7. Lin Lyons

    Not to worry about cats. The vet said that cats are good for 6 stories. Kittens are good for 7. They’re lighter. I personally know that cats are good for 3 stories. Don’t ask. Wasn’t my cat.

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