posted on Sep, 7 2005 @ 11:20 AM
Wikipedia defines conspiracy: "in common usage, is the act of working in secret to obtain some goal, usually understood with negative
Today I was the target of a nefarious conspiracy. The insidiousness of the plot is reprehensible, and like all good conspiracies, there's no way I
can prove it.
It involved 3 players. My bird Phil, my dog Spike and my mom Mom (that's right, ladies! I'm 26 and living at home, come and get me!) were the
coconspirators. I'm not sure when they began planning, but I suspect it was shortly after I had to leave for work at 3:30 AM yesterday. It may have
been earlier, though, and this could be just the beginning.
I'm wiped out after work and just wanted to go to bed, but insomnia (read: ATS) struck again and I couldn't fall asleep until about 1:30. No
problem, I don't have to be up until about 7:30 in the morning, six and a half hours of sleep is no problem.
At 5 my bird starts singing into his mirror. This in and of its self isn't so shocking; usually when he does this I turn to face his cage, say in a
sleepy, annoyed voice, "Knock it off, Phil [or Bird]." He usually does. The reason, so far as I can fathom, for this is if he keeps going I start by
taking the mirror away, then covering him, and finally moving him to another room. He doesn't like that because usually when I wake up I hang out
with him for about 15 minutes in the morning, if he's around. (My last bird was even better, he'd sit there all morning watching my eyes. As soon as
he saw them open, even if I tried to close them really quickly so he wouldn't notice, the singing would start.) Not this time, though! Oh no, they
had a plan! He starts going off, and I say, "Knock it off, Phil." Instead of his normal reactions, he comes prancing over to the side of the cage
closest to me and starts singing right at me. I take down the mirror and cover him up. After about 10 minutes, he's quiet.
All right, time to get back to sleep. I'm just about zonked out when I feel this plastic cone nudging my back. My dog's got one of them cone
thingies on his head due to an infection on one of his legs. I ignore him, but he keeps it up for about 10 to 15 minutes. I can't sleep with this
constant nudging on my back, but at least I can kind of rest instead of having to do whatever the heck he wants me to do. Realizing he's getting
nowhere, he starts to bark.
I'm starting to get annoyed.
I turn over and yell, "What?!" He turns around, sits and looks over his shoulder, his way of asking me to pet him. After the red cleared from my
eyes, I gave him a one way ticket downstairs. If he really had to go to the bathroom, that would be one thing, but he just supposedly wanted to be
Again, just about to fall asleep when that darn bird starts singing despite the utter blackness within the hallows of his home. After about 2 minutes,
he, too, gets a one way ticket outta there.
At this point in time, it's 6:30. I figure 15 minutes to fall back asleep, and I can still get about 45 minutes of rest bringing my total up to about
four and a half hours. Juuuuuuust starting to nod off when I hear a knock on my door. Ignore it, maybe it will go away. Slightly louder this time.
Ignore, ignore, ignore, don't throw the bookshelf through the door.
&^%$^$!!! "What?!" It was my mom.
"Have you seen my suit coat? It matches these pants."
Crap, now I have to get up, open the door and look at the pants before I tell her no. Why on earth would I know where her suit coat was? I open the
door, look at the pants, and tell her, "no." Then I lay back down, and think, crap, I did laundry last night, I wonder if I grabbed it and hung it
up with the rest of my stuff...Sure enough, there it is in my closet. (I think the dog put it in there, though, as part of their plot).
I give her the coat, flop back into bed and just start to nod off as the alarm goes off. Can you say Conspiracy!?