Footprints on the Moon

I still don’t feel comfortable sharing what’s taking up most of my headspace, so I thought I’d use this opportunity to share with you why I get scared when I come home, or open my apartment door, and find a bag out there. This means my uncle has been there, and it’s usually scary. See, he’s one of the maintenance guys at the apartment complex where I live so he’s in apartments going through the items the owners have left behind and he’s not above dumpster diving. Now, maybe it’s just me, but usually people leave things behind or throw them away FOR A REASON.

Let me share with you the contents of a scary bag that arrived sometime this weekend (don’t remember exactly when).

There was this shirt, which I’m sure was cute. I didn’t check the size, but I’m pretty sure it would have been too small for me had it been in good shape. I hope you can see how full of holes this shirt is. I was holding it by two fingertips, and decided to lay it out on the floor to take a picture and blog about it. That’s when I noticed it. Do you see it?? Here, let me help you…

Is that… blood?!?

Oh my god, gag. But there was also a ziploc baggie with an item in it, and I couldn’t figure out what it was. So against my better judgement, I opened the baggie and I kid you not, the stench coming out of it about knocked me down. (It was a hat and scarf, by the way…) Oh man! I immediately sealed that baby back up and stuck it back in the hallway. Then I scrubbed my hands with scalding water and lit a candle to try and remove the smell.

So yes, I get scared when I come home to find bags hanging from my door. But I think this is a warranted, and clearly, learned reaction.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, December 9th, 2008 at 4:39 pm and is filed under Footprints. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.