Graveyard Dirt: Two Worlds and In-between

Red Nightmare

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The entire neighborhood thinks we're weirdos. And, for once, it's not entirely MY fault. (YES, I DO saunter around the house naked without pulling down any blinds and YES, Italics and I are the freaks that are up in the middle of the night with all of the lights on in the house and YES, it was my decision to leave illuminated stars hanging in the kitchen window despite Christmas being long gone but are we the ones responsible for the dirt yard outside (long short? father-in-law dug up the entire lawn outside a few years ago and left it as dirt, hence "dirt yard" instead of "front yard") and the two broken cars - both parked indefinitely, one partially obstructing access to our street? NO.)

That fucking red car has sat in the same fucking place this entire winter. (And when I say "entire" I mean since November, and that's me being GENEROUS, okay?) Vans and trucks barely squeeze by, the mailman - who once parked opposite of our house when doing his rounds - had to find another spot to momentarily leave his car. The snow plow folk? THEY WANT TO KILL ME. (Normally I have a hard time reading body language and facial expressions, but, somehow, I inherently understand what they're thinking and feeling when I mistakenly make eye contact with them when they turn into our dead end street.)

I almost blew a fucking gasket when my mother-in-law had the audacity to complain that the opening of our driveway wasn't getting plowed. FOR FUCK'S SAKE, WOMAN, CAN'T YOU SEE THE RED FUCKING OBSTACLE YOU PARKED //LAST YEAR// IN FRONT OF THE FUCKING HOUSE? CAN'T YOU FUCKING SEE HOW LARGE VEHICLES HAVE TO GIVE IT A WIDE BERTH? CAN'T YOU FUCKING SEE HOW MUCH OF A FUCKING INCONVENIENCE YOU'VE CREATED FOR EVERYONE ELSE?

(I'd like to add CAN'T YOU FUCKING SEE THE ABSOLUTE FUCKING HATED AND IRE DIRECTED AT US EVERY FUCKING TIME SOMEONE HAS TO FUCKING NAVIGATE AROUND THE BROKEN CAR YOU DECIDED TO FUCKING PARK IN A TINY RESIDENTIAL STREET BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO FUCKING LAZY TO DISPOSE OF IT LIKE NORMAL FUCKING PEOPLE? but I can't, because I know she's never gotten the POINTED LOOK OF UNADULTERATED HATRED from drivers due to NEVER BEING AROUND TO EXPERIENCE IT.)

The WORST part of all of this? The car actually disappeared for two weeks. One day I glanced outside and noticed something was amiss, but it took me a few seconds to realize what it was. ("HOLY SHIT THE RED CAR'S FINALLY GONE!") Thank fucking God, I thought, now I don't have to feel embarrassed when a complete stranger throws me a nasty fucking look. For a fortnight I could MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH PEOPLE AGAIN, and not just because I felt obligated to offer some sort of silent, lame ass apology for the aggravation.

Internet, it reappeared fourteen days. At first I thought I was hallucinating, but a harder look out the window confirmed the car wasn't a figment of my imagination. And then? (<- As if it couldn't get any worse.) And then we got hit by several blizzards. I can't even fucking imagine what the snow plow folk must've thought (and felt) when they swung into our little street and saw that the red nightmare was back. (If we get hit by one more snowfall I swear on all that's fucking holy and divine THEY'RE GOING TO DEMAND A HUMAN SACRIFICE FROM THIS HOUSE.)