Five Foot Radius

I am a rational and logical person whose very existence revolves around clear thinking and pooh-poohing superstition. I think in a linear fashion. I do not go flitting off on flights of fancy. I believe in things that are real, like science and accounting and zombies.

However, even I am forced to believe in supernatural forces every now and again. When faced with incontrovertible evidence, I will concede the point.

Thus, it is with so reservations whatsoever that I announce my having been cursed. Sure, I bumbled along for a while spouting some nonsense about coincidence but I'm over that now. Curses get mad when you fail to cower before them. In fact, they get downright nasty. Let me walk you down the path I've traversed over the past week or so:

*The Friday before last, the police showed up at my door in response to a 911 call that I did not make.

*That same Friday, the phone company discovered multiple problems on my line including a tendency to call law enforcement. I was advised to disconnect the phones until they could fix the problem.

*My Big, Fluffy Kitty stole my turkey sandwich during all the excitement. She was discovered dragging it across the living room and looking as happy as I've ever seen her.

*The phones remained off for a week. There were challenges. Among them was the fact that the phone company couldn't find where I lived or remember my cell number so they could call me for directions.

*The power went out at school twice. Buses were delayed. Alarms went off. Emergency personnel were dispatched. Many school phones were injured in the making of this disaster and some took a full day to recover.

*My cell phone froze, unable to deal with my data plan. Or the curse.

*My internet went in and out in response to the problems with my "real" phones.

*The heating controls in my classroom went haywire and we were subjected to temperatures more commonly enjoyed by camels.

*When I tried to take my mind off all this curse-related activity with a little movie watching, I discovered that my DVD player had died.

It all came to a head yesterday when the cashier at the grocery store dropped my 18-count box of eggs. She looked at me in horror, obviously realizing that she was dealing with someone who should not be out mingling with the regular folk. I should come with a warning label. Orange cones should be placed around me so that no one comes within five feet of me. Homeland Security should be issuing an alert of some kind. Had I left my phones on for much longer, I am certain that this would have happened. It was only a matter of time before the crazed devices called that particular agency...

Once you accept a curse, you sort of feel better, though. You start to take pleasure in the little things. Sure, you have to watch the ceiling to make sure it's not about to fall on your head. Otherwise, it's not so bad being stuck in the house and afraid of making contact with other humans. You can catch up on stuff like the ankle socks you started last summer but didn't finish. In fact, once the snow starts falling and the temperatures plummet, you are highly motivated to do just that.

You don't even care how weird ribbed socks look off the foot.

You may be saying, "Sheepie! Those socks look like you finished them, wore them to bed, still had them on today and only took them off long enough to take a picture! Why, I can even see a bit of lint from your flannel sheets there!!!"

You would be correct. I don't deny it. These babies have been warming my tootsies since last night and I don't care who knows it. I'll probably still have them on when I retire this very night because it is cold.

And when you are cursed, things like frostbite and the loss of toes aren't out of the question...

SA