Oh my glob. I finally got the power cord to my laptop. And I just need to say; laptop, baby, I love you. Let’s never fight again. I seriously wanted this power cord more than I want a healthy long term relationship. This laptop is all I have been thinking about for the past three days. I might have a problem.
I’m going to make this a quick one today.
At my company I used to have a job that was similar to a power meter reader. I spent most of my days walking around neighborhoods. For 8 hours. I finally got a pedometer because I was curious to know how far I was walking every day. It was never less than 5 miles.
One day I was at an apartment complex. They were usually fun because I could sometimes hit my quota for the day in a matter of minutes.
It was a typical day in Florida. I was alternately wishing I was literally under water or that it was legal to be naked in public. Or maybe some kind of reverse wetsuit that would be like walking around in a waterproof suit filled with ice water. I was wearing shorts, boots and an itchy polyester polo. Kind of like a much less sexy UPS guy.
I pulled the cover off one of our boxes and in the bottom I saw it. A dead possum. I had never been so close to a possum. I had only ever seen them squished on the side of the road.
They are nasty looking. And smelly. Though I suspected this one smelled so badly because it was dead.
I immediately decided I needed a picture of this dead creature to text to my then boyfriend. (That’s right men, I’m single. Play your cards right and I could be texting you pictures of dead animals.).
I whipped out my phone from it’s holster like a gunslinger. A winning gunslinger, I might add. I leaned in way close to the possum.
I’m a professional. I needed an artsy close up shot and then a far away one. For perspective. I got my face and camera right up in there. I was leaned way, way forward.
And then my finger went in search of the button on the screen I don’t know why this is so fucking impossible when taking selfies. Which now that I think about it would have been adorable to do with my dead possum.
I leaned just a bit closer. And that must have been when I finally got too close to the possum. It hissed at me like a cat and started towards me.
I leapt backwards and fell down over myself. I hit the ground so quickly you would have thought I was presenting my jugular for it to rip out in some kind of bizarre possum/human sacrifice. Luckily, it wasn’t a blood thirsty possum.
I had nearly peed myself in fright.
And that’s when it suddenly hit me where the phrase “playing possum” came from. I may or may not have been in gifted as a child.
When I got home, I was disappointed that I didn’t have a picture to show my then boyfriend. Luckily, I had memorized it’s expression and showed him what came to be known as “dead possum face” before he forbid me from ever making it again.
*Hint: Possum is not actually dead. And that is the exact face that I make. Dead possum face.