What just happened here?

The time is 4:13 AM on Friday morning, the fifth of August, and I am blogging to you because this is absurd.

After an evening spent relaxing after my ten hour work day (9-2 and 4-9 respectively) by watching Shark Week (!) and reading some H.P. Lovecraft stories I’ve never see before, I went to bed in the back guest room, where we are cat-sitting two young cats for three weeks. More on them later. I go to bed and begin having a series of very vivid dreams which aren’t nightmares but don’t exactly act out my every secret wish.

A few minutes ago, I woke up. Why, I can’t quite remember; maybe it was the noise? or maybe just the energy of two very excited cats circling their prey. But when I was awake enough to notice that they were unusually interested in something by the door, I realized that there was a very odd clicking/chirping noise emanating from somewhere in the room – and it didn’t sound like the ceiling fan. No, no, it was a BAT sprawled on its back, surrounded by two very accomplished feeling kitties.

My brain processed enough of this scene to go realize that in my current state, I could in no way respond to this situation alone in a rational capacity. So I ran away, waking my mother and then my brother to help me GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET IT OUT. Listen, if y’all knew how tired and sleep deprived I’ve been this week, you would not begrudge me freaking out a little.

With Matt’s help, we got the little guy out onto the back balcony with no more harm done to it than whatever the cats did, checked all the windows to try figure out how it got in, and sat down to compare notes that we had both been reading/watching things that were Lovecraftian in nature. We then wondered if somehow we’d opened a gateway for the Elder gods to reach our world, and the bat was just a harbinger of doom.

And at this point, my brain sort of broke from lack of sleep and then extreme shock and I started giggling and hyperventilating and now I’m playing online until I calm down. However, my freak out is documented on Twitter if you’d like to see it:

Maria D'Isidoro
Maria_DisidoroMaria D’Isidoro

I just woke up to discover the bat after some rather deep dreaming and am understandably suffering from brain break. This doesn’t seem real.
Maria D'Isidoro
Maria_DisidoroMaria D’Isidoro

In my guest bedroom. Cats found it. ((O_o)) RT @Genevieve_Thurs @Maria_Disidoro WHAT? A bat? In where?
Maria D'Isidoro
Maria_DisidoroMaria D’Isidoro

Oh shit, what if there are more?
Maria D'Isidoro
Maria_DisidoroMaria D’Isidoro

And how LONG was it in there? Where was it hiding? Oh god, I’m gonna have to search the shelves and probably clean out a guano deposit.
Maria D'Isidoro
Maria_DisidoroMaria D’Isidoro

HOW DID A BAT EVEN GET IN THERE?
Maria D'Isidoro
Maria_DisidoroMaria D’Isidoro

I don’t –
Maria D'Isidoro
Maria_DisidoroMaria D’Isidoro

I just –
(Read in ascending order, please. I’m too tired to pretty it up for you guys right now.)
Okay, I’m gonna try sleep because dear lord I am SO tired. I’ll blog about this more tomorrow. Maybe. Depending on whether or not I accept these events to be real and not just a VERY convincing dream. Good night.
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About Morgan Maria D'Isidoro

Morgan Maria D'Isidoro has lived in Baltimore, MD for most of her life, saving a handful of failed escape attempts. Given the murder rates, she'll probably die here too. Morgan is a writer of speculative fiction and poetry, a musician of dubious quality, cat aficionado, art history fangirl, kitchen sorceress, recovering pyromaniac, accomplished liar, and an all around person of questionable employability.
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