They come knocking at my door...

` Written last night....

` I am not home most of the time, it seems, and so I often wonder who I miss knocking at the door. So many people have come up to the porch, looking for people who don’t live here, or even looking to buy trash from the backyard….
` Surprisingly, I’ve actually been home a bunch of the time lately, only leaving to hang out with Lou, the crazy people at Denny’s – including Kitty Monkey Guy – or his groovy family (Book-Listener and Cake Therapist) due to my weighty lethargy, runny nose and (shortly after making my last post on this blog) attentive prevention of the ruination of my underwear.
` In other words, instead of suffering from my usual PSIS (Pre Sinus-Infection Syndrome), it has indeed been genuine PMS. (If it isn’t one, it’s the other, I guess… and it started on the 13^th, more or less as I had predicted!)

` What was I rambling on about incoherently? Oh… so I’ve actually been home all day, only leaving to get the mail. I probably would have roused myself to walk to the bank and the library, except it was raining like it does in Ohio. Meaning, it was not drizzling.
` At around 20:00 hours, I was in my closet, talking to my mom (who was up late after much activity in West Virginia), when a knock sounded on the front door. I saw a young woman standing on the porch, so I cracked the door open and said; “Hi. Who are you?”
` She asked me; “Hi, are your parents home?”
` “Well,” I said. “I’m on the phone with my mom right now – she’s on vacation at the moment, but that doesn’t matter because she doesn’t even live on this side of the country, anyway. If that’s what you were wondering.”
` She clarified that she meant whoever was in charge of the house because she needed a place to stay and asked if this was a Clean and Sober house.
` I said; “I don’t think it is, but I can assure you that everyone here is both clean and sober. And, I am fairly certain that the supposedly unoccupied room is, in fact, only halfway occupied by doors and window blinds. But they’re very decent doors and window blinds. They shouldn’t bother you.”
` And she said; “I know this sounds weird, but would anyone living in your house mind if I spent the night here, because I can’t find the house I was supposed to be staying in. All I need is to take a shower and throw my laundry in the dryer.”
` “We actually don’t have a dryer.”
` Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding,” she monotoned.
` “No,” I said, “but I do know that the house next door does have one.”
` So, she went over there, presumably, and was most likely swallowed up by some creature in the night.

` Somehow, I get the impression that this is the kind of neighborhood where a lot of knocking on doors occurs due to poor communication skills. If only I were home more often – who knows what kind of wackmobiles and wonderful freaks or travelers might be happening by while I’m gone!
` Generally, I actually spend time away from home as much as I possibly can – some days I’m only home for about an hour or so before I take off again until the next day. At least for today, I’ve been ill enough to not have to wonder for once.