Guest Post!

Dear readers, while I’m busy this week unpacking moving boxes and coaxing my cats out of the closets in the new house, my hilarious pal Lincee of the famous has graciously offered to write a post for me this week. I’ll be back next week! Enjoy Lincee’s adventure below…

They’re Coming To Take Me Away

A few years ago, I was convinced that I was going to have to call my mortgage banker friends at Envoy to help me finance a loan due to the incessant tweeting of a certain feathery friend outside my bedroom window.  It was either that or ask James to borrow his BB gun.  Desperate times call for desperate measures people.  My story begins with a string of consecutive sleepless nights which all started during a business trip to Oklahoma.

DAY 1:

I’ve never been one to sleep well when in a “foreign country” like Oklahoma. Moreover, I never EVER sleep well when I have to get up early to catch a plane.  The night is consumed by me flailing about in the covers, checking the clock, convinced that I’ve somehow missed my flight only to realize that it’s 12:57 and I have four hours of precious sleep left.

DAY 2:

After seeing Matt Damon in that weird movie The Adjustment Bureau, I woke up all night long thinking there was a creepy guy in a fedora staring at me from the end of my bed, trying to amend my life so I would return to a righteous path.

DAY 3:

A beef enchilada came back to wreak havoc in the wee hours of the morning.

DAY 4:

My upstairs neighbors decided to “jump up and down on the bed” in the middle of the night with only a thin layer of ceiling between me and their tryst.

DAY 5:

At approximately 3:14 a.m., I am awakened by a weird noise. It sounds like beeping, but not really. Assuming that my smoke alarm batteries are dying, I make my sleepy way to the den to check the apparatus. I follow the irritating noise back to my bedroom, checking my phone to make sure I hadn’t accidentally changed my alarm when I meant to surf the Internet for photos reviews of Ryan Gosling’s new movie.

And that’s when I figured it out. It was a bird. Chirping. Constantly chirping. Outside of my window.

What kind of devil bird chirps at night?  I banged my fist on the window and then went back to bed. The next day, I went to Bed Bath & Beyond and purchased one of those white noise makers.

DAY 6:

After what felt like only a few hours of sleep, I was shocked that my alarm was already greeting me with its annoying yet affective beeping.  I tried relentlessly to hit snooze, but nothing happened.

Low and behold, the devil bird was back at my window chirping. Constant chirping. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. I walked to the window and banged with reckless abandon.  The devil bird started laughing at me. Truly.

Not willing to enjoy one of nature’s most talented singers in the middle of the night, I remembered the sound machine purchased less than 24-hours ago. Of course, it was in my car. Forgetting to put on pants, I slid on my flip flops and headed outside, shaking my fist at the tree inhabiting the devil bird before retrieving the bag. I was discouraged to learn that the Dream Machine needed four batteries. Pilfering from the TV remote control, I could only scrounge up two.

Meanwhile, the chirping continued in heinous mockery.

Being in the oil and gas business, not only do I own five different hard hats, but I typically laugh at the rate those squishy ear plugs multiply in my drawers, pockets and bags. Could I find one, let alone two at 4:00 in the morning? No. Not one. I opted for turning the ceiling fan on high and shoving Q-tips in my ears.

In the end, I got up before the sun, slammed my window one last time for good measure and went to the bathroom to wash my face.

I kid you not dear reader.  I distinctly heard chirping out THAT window as well. Oh yes. The devil bird followed me to two different windows. This was not a coincidence. I was definitely being stalked and the idea of purchasing an official Red Ryder carbine-action two-hundred-shot range model air rifle was certainly plausible at this point.

Loving most of God’s creatures, I decided to purchase batteries for my Dream Weaver instead. And I bought that book “To Kill A Mockingbird.”

I wanted to be prepared for all scenarios.