Swiss Cheese & Other Crimes Against Humanity

I'm starting Day 11 in Washington. My life continues to spin out of control, in two states at once. It's like I'm living my worst nightmare and I can't wake up.

I make mistake after mistake here. As a result I've been turned into the house Monkey Boy, doing the bidding of all who inhabit these walls. Including the two poodles, Blue & Max.

A couple days ago a coffee disaster erupted when I was caught using my sister's special coffee cup. I was banned from its usage.

Then I drank too much coffee. And so yesterday a new coffee pot was purchased that has been designated "Monkey Boy's Coffee Pot."

Last week I forgot to take in the milk immediately upon delivery. That's right, here in Washington you can still get milk delivered to your door. It is delivered to a white heat reflective (if there was heat) box. There has been much controversy spinning over the fact that I did not bring in the milk within an hour of delivery. My position is that it is colder outside than in the refrigerator. I really don't see why they have refrigerators in this ultra-frigid climate.

When my mom and dad arrived, a week ago, my mom loaded the already packed refrigerator with more stuff. Including, I now know, some Swiss cheese they'd bought at the Tillamook Cheese factory on the Oregon coast.

Apparently, unbeknownst to any of us, my mom had declared one shelf of the fridge as her own. Yesterday my sister organized the fridge, totally obliterating my mom's shelf and moving the Swiss cheese to the cheese bin.

Yesterday, I made myself a steak sandwich for lunch. I saw the Swiss cheese and opened up the package and added a couple slices to the sandwich.

When my mom and dad returned last night and my mom saw we were in a kitchen frenzy, getting ready to BBQ, she checked the fridge, saw her shelf gone and asked where her special Swiss cheese was. I was the only one who knew of the Swiss cheese. And its fate.

When I confessed to cutting into the Swiss cheese my mom claimed that she'd clearly stated this was not to be touched, that it was to return, cheese intacto, to Phoenix.

My sister tried to calm the storm by saying we saw the same cheese at Top Foods that very day. And that we'd replace the damaged Swiss cheese. But that did not do much to mitigate the storm. Eventually my mom resigned herself to the fact that her Swiss cheese had been ruined beyond repair. My sister then said something like, Monkey Boy, go pour mom and dad a glass of blackberry wine.

I've likely already blocked from memory some of the other horrors I've caused these people. Like I parked my sister's car too close to her driveway's humongous rosemary bush, thus causing her to touch the bush upon car entry, thus causing her to reek of rosemary all day long.

My worst crime occurred yesterday morning. I'll spare the graphic details. Suffice to say, I went to my zone to do yoga. I do yoga sans clothes. Unbeknownst to me, one of the inhabitants was in this floor's bathroom. She was up here to take a shower. Why I do not know. At some point, to our mutual horror we realized we were both in the same space. In varying degrees of undress.

In other words, I'm sleeping well, but I'm pretty much in a perpetual state of low level trauma.