The actress reminded me of you

Big storms rolled through over night. Thunder rattled the windows and I could hear heavy rain bouncing on the skylight in the master bathroom. Oh, wait, I forgot we are not supposed to say “Master” when referring to a bedroom or bath lest someone whose great, great, great granddaddy was a slave and they become triggered to think they are now enslaved or something. Yes, this is how stupid the world has become. 

After the trash man came on Tuesday, I went to drag the bin back into place at the side of the house. The bottom and interior was crawling with maggots and the bin stunk like a dead critter in Hades. It was gross. I sprayed bug killer into the bin and slammed the lid. A few hours later I washed the darn thing out. There remains a lingering stink around the can.

I don’t know if it was a long-repressed memory, but the whole thing triggered me — triggered me into gagging. I blame my great great grandma who was an orphan and probably had to root through the trash of New York City to survive. I suddenly had a repressed imaginary memory of her life. Oh, the trauma!

I suggest we ban maggots from trash bins lest I get triggered again. 

Sounds dumb, right? 

They say music soothes the soul, so here we go with some Friday music:

A deep cut. Have a great day. Let’s work on that maggot thing, alright?