Hiding my faith in the rain

So I'm walking around the house with a headache, raising the light bill with my seemingly uncontrollable habit of flipping light switches on and off. I'm bored again and I really need a bath. Did I mention my head hurt?

I see a new sight on the kitchen floor: a big ol' roach. I turn the kitchen light on and apparently I stun the creature because it pauses near my foot. We're waiting for each other's next move. I grab the broom which is laying against the deep freeze that we do not use, and the roach scurries a bit but ultimately--a bit resignedly if insects could feel--it pauses again in the light.

"Hiii~" I declare in a sing-song voice and slap the insect down. I shuffle it under the trash can because I'm tired of our little insect pest, and my freakin' head freakin' hurts. It's then that I notice the trashbag in the middle of the floor.

I have no idea what it is with my mom and leaving trash bags that need to be taken out in the kitchen. I can understand her wanting to wait until sun up, I do this as well because our neighborhood is truly untrustworthy. But still, the sun rose at about 6 and if she didn't want to take out the trash it's not like I wasn't dancing in the living room to Madonna with a pair of scissors.

So I go in the living room and slip on my battered shower shoes, or flip flops as they work now, and I take the trash outside.

As soon as I open the door I am absolutely battered by wind. It had been blowing the trash can & recycle bin against the house all night. I saw it bend trees to ground level and nearly lift up the roof of our neighbor's shack in their backyard. But the wind dies down almost immediately as I step off the porch as if I'd used my wayward Jedi powers. At least it's warm outside even if the sky is about a shade off Payne's grey and the clouds are promising an annoying drizzle at least.

I take my time strolling to the trash can since it's right next to the house. I throw the bag inside the bin which is almost as tall as I am (which isn't much of a feet since I'm uh, about 5 even on a good day) and notice something in mom's car. I walk around to the little silver Hyundai and notice it's a bunch of flowers from her job. Her job at the Tennessean. Her job that she hates.

How interesting, I think to myself as I circle around the car. The thought hits me that if the cops were to do their seemingly hourly patrol and saw me walking around the car like a potential hit, I'd probably be screwed. At the very least I must have looked awkward to that car that turned right at the four way stop.

I take my time going back inside before coming back in. Rain, when it clearly doesn't want to rain, irritates the hell out of me. I can't figure out why my head hurts still but I figure it's a combination of all the sugar I've consumed and my odd habit of seeing how long I can hold my breath at random. I've been up 12 hours officially at 9:00 AM and I might as well attempt to stay up the rest of the day. I don't want aspirin. What to do, what to do...

Yeah, that really was an extended weather report. Gotcha, gotcha.