#the ramblings of a sleep deprived possum
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Lately I’ve been reflecting on the concept of friendships, particularly past friendships. It’s just wild to me how someone who was a stranger to you mere moments before a single interaction can become an influential part of your life so quickly. Yet, they can also go back to being strangers just as fast too.
I’ve been cleaning out my old emails; and today I stumbled on a list of song tracks to a CD, that an old friend of mine in high school (who I also had a big ol’ crush on) had made for me.
It was such a sweet memory to revisit, I haven’t seen or talked to him in years.
But, instantaneously all those feelings that had just been filed off somewhere as unimportant, bubbled right back up. I felt all the joy we used to share listening to our burned CD’s, the ways we talked about games and shows for hours too. How we used to hangout together between classes and sneak coffee from the university center next to our school. We had so many adventures and fun times. It had been music though, that created that connection. He was probably the first and only person, I’d met during that time in my life who loved Symphonic Metal as much as I did. It was an instant bond between us; as he didn’t know too many girls at the time, that liked it either haha. And because of him I gained so many favorite new bands. I mean this guy definitely had a hand in how I developed my taste in music over the years for sure haha.
I still have that first burned CD he made for me actually; and I remember how much I laughed my ass off when I read the title he’d scribbled onto the damn thing in sharpie. “Not Metallica”. It was such a silly inside joke between us and few other friends at the time (and I’m pretty sure it ended up being one we beat to death).
Point is, he may not be in my life now; but the small ways he left an impact are still very much present. His finger prints are still all over beautiful pieces of who adult me grew up to be. What a joy it is to be a small part in someone’s life, however fleeting it might have been. We are all constant reminders of the lives lived around us and through us, it’s wonderful is it not?
I hope he’s doing good, and I hope the teenage boy I knew would be proud to know, that I just made a new playlist titled, “Not Metallica”.
#personal#late night thoughts#the ramblings of a sleep deprived possum#pay me no mind in my silliness#friendships#life is beautiful#growth#change is inevitable#Also Time II just came out like two months ago#it’s fucking wild that he first showed me Time I 12 years ago#only took Jari a near decade to finish the damn album haha#I hope he’s been jamming to it as much as I have been
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Since I’m looking for people to forcibly drag into the mutant busters fandom y’all should read this:
This author is so amazing and has created the most traumatising story out there 😋. PLEASE DONT UNDERESTIMATE THE WARNINGS!! This story is basically dead dove do not eat: the book.
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Just about 2hrs into my born day and let me tell you about the shenanigans. 🤡 So I was sleep and spouse was awake packing. I wake up because…noise. 😒 And I’m old so I have to clock out of sleep to go pee. I’m light fussing about the type of noise (ptsd) and as I flip the lid to the toilet, I catch a glimpse of a black and white fur ball perched right beneath the toilet seat. 🫣
It’s a possum. A whole ass baby possum. A whole ass baby possum inside of our toilet where we keep the lid closed. I go find spouse. “There’s something in the toilet.” Spouse just stares at me blankly because I play all day. Spouse is looking for the smirk to creep on my face. Smirk never came. Spouse then goes through second checks for method acting. I don’t break. We venture to the bathroom.
Little joker had climbed up on the toilet seat. Spouse sees it. “RY-YENNN that’s a possum!�� Me ��. I was really hoping the sleep deprivation had me fucked up. It’s a muhfuckin’ possum. We needed a third opinion so we let the dog in too. She said yea, that’s a weird looking cat thing. So a possum.
We close all three doors to the bathroom and huddle. Call animal control? They won’t come. Short staffed. WERLA? No response. We go back in and it’s rummaging the trash. It doesn’t seem to care that we’re talking or even in the same room. It doesn’t respond to us at all. Cool. More time for solutions. We huddle again. Spouse does the Google thing. I’m sleepy and just want it out so I can pee. We decide to trap it. We go back in. It’s now in the trash sleep. 😨 I’m talking about COMFORTABLE. For whatever reason, this made me agitated in an old person type of way. Like you ain’t paid a dime on rent and in here eating, drinking and sleeping. Meanwhile I’m sleep-EE. I take two towels we typically use for non-body shit and toss them over the can. We slide the whole can into a small tote and I tote that hoe outside. The whole time I’m rambling, “How the hell did a possum get in our house.” And also, “Where the hell yo mama at?!”
I then go clean the bathroom from top to bottom because, you know, you clean after guests leave. Okay…OCD.
Spouse says happy birthday in the form of a question. I say thanks in the form of a question. We’re quiet now with random chuckles. No commentary. This will be a great bar story. 😂🤣
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