This morning I woke up excited at the prospect of my daily run. The weather here in North Carolina has been terrible lately. Three straight weeks of rain. Typically right before, or during my runs. A conspiracy I tell you.
Although it was cloudy and I had this nagging feeling that this was the type of day to just spend in bed, I was determined to be productive and enjoy a little bit of mother nature. Little did I know, she had other plans for me...The first attack happened as I ran across my favorite little bridge. I was halfway across when I heard what I thought to be a hissing noise. I slowed down a bit and looked to the side. Imagine my horror when I saw not one, but TWO rattlesnakes. Needless to say the trek back to the car was potentially one of the fastest two mile runs I've ever done.
The second attack happened as I was in the car leaving said run and going to the store to pick up something for James. I was at a busy intersection the first time I heard it. A faint buzzing sound. I brushed it off thinking it was coming from outside the car. A few miles up the road, I realized I was heading the wrong way, so I turned into a neighborhood to pull a u-turn. As I glanced over my shoulder, my heart dropped. There sitting on the window of my car, was the largest bug I've ever seen in my life. Seriously guys, it looked like it had walked straight out of a Stephen King novel.
I'm almost certain that the people three streets over heard my terrified shrieks. I jerked the car to the side of the street, narrowly missing the hideous lawn gnome sitting next to the mailbox. Yes, even in my panicked state it was hard to miss that ugly thing.
I think I dove out of the car before it even came to a complete stop. In my mind I was Angelina Jolie, performing a graceful tuck and roll maneuver from the vehicle--not a hair out of place. In reality I'm sure I looked a bit like a sweaty drunken crazy lady in too much pink.
Luckily, I managed to snag my umbrella as I tumbled out of the vehicle. Gripping it so tight it left little indents on my hand. I can only imagine how insane I must have looked to the people driving by in cars. A sweaty girl brandishing an umbrella over her head yelling obscenities at seemingly nothing. Ironically enough, just two days earlier, I had fervently told James that I was not a "girlie girl." So far, today had proved otherwise.
After another few minutes of Battle Royal with the Mutant Bug, I finally got the upper hand and managed to flick him into the air (either that or he finally grew tired of my supersonic shrieks and flew off, but for the purpose of maintaining a tiny shred of my dignity, I'm going with the first one).
Shakily, I climbed back into the car and drove home with the window up. By the time I arrived home, I had decided that maybe nature wasn't all it was cracked up to be.
Because apparently mother nature was determined to ensure that the trifecta was complete, as I walked up to the house, I noticed two yellow eyes glaring at me from the walkway leading to my door. (I'm feel I should caveat this by saying, I love cats. My cat Maxie was the most spoiled animal on the face of the earth--until Jasmine came along --sorry Max). There sitting in front of my door, was the creepiest black cat I've ever seen.
Don't get me wrong, I love the neighborhood cats--from a distance. I'm almost certain one, if not all of those buggers have rabies. And this guy, he didn't want to budge. In my most soothing voice I tried to shoo him away. Instead he laid down on the ground and began licking his paws. Brat.
After a few more minutes of failed attempts to get him away from my door, I decided enough was enough. I stomped off to the car and returned with my "special" umbrella. I'm not sure if it was the murderous glint in my eyes, or the umbrella I was menacingly holding in my hand, but the cat decided the wisest course of action included him removing himself from the equation before it got ugly. Smart guy. He darted under the bushes. I don't speech cat, but I'm almost certain that hiss he let out as he disappeared into the thick foliage was not nice.
So here I sit, from the safety of my bed typing this post. I suppose if there is a moral to this story, it's if you wake up feeling as if it's one of those days that you should just stay in bed--do it. Mother Nature is a mean mother... well you know the rest ;)