A preface: I barely slept Monday night because of the heat and humidity. I woke up Tuesday night during the thunderstorm and couldn’t settle back in. Last night I had an unannounced wake up call at 3 AM…
Yesterday was National Running Day! I had five miles on my schedule but didn’t get up before work because, well, I hadn’t been sleeping enough and didn’t want to run exhausted. I also didn’t want to run those 5 miles on a treadmill on National Running Day. After work it had to be.
Work turned into eleven hours of sitting in front of a computer and I was starving come dinner. I met the beau at home and devoured a monster taco salad while watching an episode of Shark Tank. At 7:30 PM I declared that I had to go to the laundromat and the beau helped me load everything into my car. He’s such a good guy. By 9:30 PM everything was washed, dried, and carried back up to the third floor. I then declared that I HAD run because it was National Running day. The beau decided to join me and we headed up to the RPI track to get in a few miles.
I knew going into the run that I wasn’t going to reach 5 miles. I figured I’d aim for three and try my hardest not to spew taco salad. I made it to 2.56 slowly but surely and called it quits. By the time we got home, it was close to 10:30 PM. I decided not to shower because I was just going to be up for spinning at five in just a few short hours. I crawled into bed wearing just a tank top- a rather tight tank top. One I hadn’t worn in a while. The beau joked and said he liked it, I was too lazy to pull off the sausage casing, and passed out within minutes of turning off the light.
I was sleeping sooooo good. I know I was dreaming. I know I was still in my original position when the beau woke me up around 3 AM.
I was pissed.
There was another bat in the apartment.
I turned on the light and kitty was going wild. The bat was flying around the bedroom aiming for me, I swear it was. We hid under the blanket for a moment and the beau admitted he didn’t know what to do. I declared I had to pee. I hopped out of bed in my sausage casing of a tank-top, bottom-less, with a pillow over my head, dodging that damn bat. I made it to the bathroom and by the time I was finished, the bat was now circling the living room.
My game plan was to turn on as many lights as possible. The beau opened the back porch door. he suggested just shutting the bedroom door and leaving kitty outside to take care of business. I wasn’t having it. The bat circled for what seemed like forever, not allowing me out of the bathroom until it just disappeared. Now you may remember that this happened last time to us. We never saw that bat(s) again. I was determined to get this one out. I carefully made my way to the closet, flicked on the light, and grabbed the broom. I knew it was behind our antique mirror.
This thing is floor to ceiling (gorgeous) but too heavy to move. As I moved the broom along the top, the bat started squeaking! Got him! I kept shoving the broom back behind the mirror until alas, the bat came at me and took off for the bedroom! Well, I’m assuming it was at me. It all happened so quickly.
Now the bat is in the bedroom circling, the beau is behind me- the one in a sausage casing like tank-top with no bottoms- swinging a broom with full force. That damn bat was testing me! He didn’t think I was actually prepared to kill it! And I wasn’t for the first couple of swings, I’ll admit it, but I got him once. All I can say is he found his way out of the back porch door and I was SWEATING by the time I crawled back into bed.
What a sight! Can you imagine if my neighbor came out on the back porch if he heard the commotion!? I would have been mortified.
Just before I turned off the lights, the beau let out a little giggle. I was pissed at this point! I was sleeping so good and couldn’t fathom why he was laughing. I of course asked why and he said, “you’re a go get ’em kind of gal,” with the biggest smile on his face.
I guess I’d have to agree.