I’m back at my keyboard again happy to report that I am alive. Really starting to lose my mind here not knowing if this house is alive or haunted, but it wants me dead. I can only assume this of course but I know that it wants to consume me and make me a part of it.
While troubleshooting an electrical problem with (you guessed it) a ceiling fan, I put on a brave face and climbed into my attic to check out the electrical box that the fan attaches to. I tried doing this from below but the box got wedged and wouldn’t come undone. I am deathly afraid of the attic – I can hear something moving about up there all through the night. I once dismissed it as a raccoon or something on the roof, but sometimes I see the ceiling bulge down and know its something between the rafters.
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I am finding it difficult to continue working with all these little annoyances around me keeping me distracted and I can’t focus. I have the room-dividing curtain closed while I try and get things accomplished, and my wife “sleeps”. I have the window fan that I use to keep cool on these warmer summer nights, but its own rattle and humming against the sill is very grating. I also have a cushy set of headphones I can use here to keep me upbeat while whittling my fingers away on this keyboard – but the combination of them just isn’t working for me.
Every time, and I do mean EVERY time, I have the fan running and the headphones singing to me, that’s when I hear her getting up and down out of the bed and pacing the room. About twelve or so steps toward my curtain and then back again. I hear her footfalls through my office chair, the vibrations and depressions… my divider sways from the battle of the window-whirring propellers and the ceiling fan that she insists on turning on, despite my trying to convince her it is evil. Which by the way is difficult to do without sounding mentally ill, and I am not sure I was successful at either.
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I have my window fan running, and other fans are running in the house. This just happened.
So I am in the bathroom using the toilet from all my beverages, granted tonight they are alcoholic in nature – and the mechanical sound in my head is persistent as I relieve myself and listen to the motors of the fans in other rooms. My attention comes to my reflection, appearing in two of the medicine cabinet panes. When I am able, I stand in front of them and move the left one so that it merges the reflection with the one on the right – making the two halves whole. I practice making faces and suddenly I hear one of the mechanical sounds in my head stop.
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