|
|
|
Wayne Post
  • Anne Palumbo: What’s really scary now

  • October is a scary month, and so I’ve been thinking about things that scare the Skittles out of me. Ghosts, goblins, witches’ hairy warts? Big whoop. Haunted hayrides, dancing skeletons, swooping bats? Honestly.
    • email print
      Comment
  • October is a scary month, and so I’ve been thinking about things that scare the Skittles out of me. Ghosts, goblins, witches’ hairy warts? Big whoop. Haunted hayrides, dancing skeletons, swooping bats? Honestly.
    No, what’s really scary are everyday occurrences.
    The other day, for example, I saw someone’s reflection in a mirror while I was out shopping. “Why is that old person with the puffy eyes and downturned mouth staring at me?!” I huffed to no one. And then: “Oh, it’s me.” Yikes.
    On that same shopping trip, whose purpose was to buy underwear for my elderly aunt, I found myself unusually attracted to the “largesse” of the gargantuan step-in underwear she had requested. “Yeah, okay, I get it,” I deliriously hummed while appraising their girth, “these parachutes look mighty comfy. A dozen, please.” Double yikes!
    Weathering severe memory outages is forever frightening. From sitting on the toilet with my pants still up to forgetting my kids’ names to adding sugar twice to the same recipe, I’m living on the edge most days.
    Writing a snarky text about someone and then accidentally sending it to them is horror-times-two.
    How about when your credit card won’t go through after a huge ring-up of grocery items? Feet don’t fail me now.
    Or, getting into an accident while wearing – egads! – the exact underwear your mother warned you “never, ever to wear”?
    Driving with a cop on my tail always makes me tremble. So what that I’m driving the speed limit, obeying all the signs, and refraining from my favorite gesture when someone cuts me off, I can’t shake the threat of imminent arrest.
    You know what else makes my blood run cold? Addressing our dark, dank, depressing basement after months of avoidance. Despite my best efforts to minimize clutter, curtail mice, and suppress mold, our basement is a recurring nightmare.
    Trying on last-year’s winter pants never fails to make my heart pound. Oh, the horror of not being able to close the waist button! Don’t get me started on shopping for bathing suits.
    Fear strikes fast and furious whenever my hairdresser looks and smells like she’s just stepped off a Carnival cruise.
    Greater fear bubbles to the surface when I learn that the yogurt I’ve just consumed is part of a recall.
    How about when nature calls while hiking and you mistakenly wipe with poison ivy?
    Yes, there are many, many scary things in daily living. But you know what frightens me the most? The thing that makes my skin crawl, teeth chatter and hair go white? Finding myself at a really boring party with nothing but soft drinks. Now that’s what I call sheer terror!
    Page 2 of 2 -  

        calendar