Destruction: The Distraction Trilogy #2

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Destruction: The Distraction Trilogy #2 Page 33

by Murphy, A. E.


  With that I dutifully hit save and sent our instructor a message to the email he shared with us letting him know I’d completed the assignment. I had always enjoyed being the top of the class in undergrad, so I guess I was back in that place of being the top of the class. (Oh, and for those of you keeping score, yes, I also have a graduate degree, but that was so effing hard that I honestly only cared about finishing without having to repeat any courses. So I was proud to be able to say I passed, but I imagined that I’d ended up somewhere around the lower end of the totem pole). Mark had suggested we create a ‘dummy’ email address for our blog, so that our personal email account didn’t get bogged down with whatever was sent our way once the blog was made public. I didn’t think that there was going to be a line of eligible bachelors knocking at my proverbial virtual wall after I hit ‘submit’, but I did what he suggested, anyway. [email protected].

  I remembered he told us that we should encourage friends and family to read our ‘blog’, if for no other reason than to get honest feedback from it. I thought it would be a better idea to leave family out and just allow the three co-conspirators to have access. My mom might be scandalized to read whatever it is these three musketeers come up with for me to do. I’m pretty sure my dad still saw me as the four year old who was terrified of the blue haired clown they got me for my birthday. In my defense, blue hair is not naturally occurring, and therefore was incredibly freakish. My siblings – well – I’d always be their kid sister and that might be weird for them and for me. Mostly for me. Don’t get me started on the nieces. So best friends-slash-co-conspirators in the horror that was my life were the only ones to get access. Those bitches better read it religiously and be nice. Or they wouldn’t want to know what I’d be doctoring their next meal with.

  Chapter 3

  It was crazy busy at work during the week, so busy I managed to forget about the crazy of my personal life (or lack thereof). Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the classroom door ready to start week two of being a blogster. Or bloginator. I think I liked bloginator better…

  Mark walked in and I sat up a little straighter, pen in hand and at the ready to take whatever nuggets of blog perfection he was to toss our way. Yeah, that sounded wicked sarcastic in my mind, too.

  “Alright everyone, I was able to go through everyone’s blogs last week, and was thrilled to see that not only did you all take the assignment seriously, you also all set up the dummy email addresses that I suggested. I sent my comments to that email address, so if you were really on top of your game, you already know what my thoughts were.” He smiled at the lot of us, mirth apparent in his eyes as he saw more than half of his class nonchalantly reaching for their cell phones. I won’t lie, I was one of them. I just wanted to know if he thought I was as much of a freak of nature as I felt when I was writing my intro post.

  I quickly logged in and was shocked that I had four emails. I found his quickly and read it, a blush creeping from my neck to my forehead as I read his words.

  “I have never laughed so much reading an intro post as I did yours. If you were to continue this style forever, I have a feeling you will have followers. Keep it up, keep it snarky, and I can not wait to hear what your friends have planned for you. Oh, and maybe once this class is done and it’s not unethical, we could have drinks sometime. As friends.”

  Holy shit, he wants to take me out on a date? I looked up briefly and saw him looking my way with a knowing smirk on his face. Why is it that I find smirks sexy? WHY? I looked back down and re-read the last line. As friends. Great. So now I didn’t know whether I’m in a relationship or not, nor do I know if I was asked on a date or not. It was so much easier when life was uncomplicated and I knew where I stood. Except, I guess I didn’t. GRRRR!

  I saw that the next email down was labeled ‘mission impossible’ and it was courtesy of Karyn. I guess she drew the first straw for my blog assignment. I opened it up so that I knew what I was facing this week.

  “Your mission, if you choose to accept it…except you have to accept it mwa ha ha ha is to… get a pet. And not a goldfish or a parakeet. You have to get something that will require you to care for it, and that will potentially bring a little messiness and a lot of happiness into your singleish life. Please don’t kill me…or the pet!”

  SONOFABITCH! Twenty heads swiveled to stare at me all slack-jawed. I think I might have said that out loud. Oops… I slid down in my seat and stared at my blank piece of paper as if it was the most fascinating thing in the universe. A pet? I had to get a pet? I always had pets as a kid, but never thought of it as an adult. I liked things neat. Pets were NOT neat.

  “Okay, well, now we know how Ashley feels about this, but yes, I expect you to all check in to all your classmate’s blogs during the week and leave constructive comments.” He started handing out sheets of paper with blog sites on them, but as he promised, no names. I scanned the topics, auto repair, making your own cleaning products, abstaining from sex, beer making… and singleish. “When you type your blogs, please pay attention to spelling, grammar and tense. I know that may not seem like a big deal, but in the intro posts I saw people going from past to present so much, that I got whiplash trying to keep up.”

  A few people chuckled at his weak attempt at humor. Such a shame, to be that good looking and have a weak sense of humor. Then again, blogging is not exactly a titillating subject matter. I started to feel myself go warm. Mentally adding titillating to my ever growing list of words I couldn’t think of in the same context as Mark. I didn’t need to think of him anywhere near my ti…was it getting warm in here or was it just me? I started to fluff the front of my shirt, trying to cool myself down. No one else seemed warm. Great, just me.

  As I was walking out of the class I felt a warm hand on my arm. “Ashley, could I have a moment?”

  When I turned around, I was met with two bright blue eyes that I had no business being so close to in my current state. Gulp.

  “Uh, sure, Mark. What’s up?” What’s up? Is that really what I could come up with? Smooth, Ash…real smooth.

  “I wanted to make sure you had no problems with the assignments. You seemed a bit upset when I was talking about the requirements to read other blogs.” I gave him a confused look at first. I didn’t remember being upset about the assignments he handed out, only the one my soon-to-be-former friend handed out. Oh no, he was referring to my little outburst. How embarrassing. I started laughing at the absurdity of it all, and he was giving me the look that said “is it time for the straight jacket, or too soon?”

  “Oh my God, Mark, no… it wasn’t that at all. I had just opened up my first ‘task’ from one of my friends for my blog. Sorry I shouted a bit during class, but needless to say, it was NOT what I expected.”

  A look of relief and understanding filled his eyes. “What on earth are they having you do if it got that type of reaction?”

  “Oh, no. No way! You’re just going to have to wait for it, like the rest of the class.” I gave him my sauciest smile possible, turned and sashayed out of the room. Yes, I sashayed, my hips were trying to be hypnotizing. Don’t judge me.

  Now I had to get a pet, and not a goldfish or a parakeet. They knew me too well to know I would have gone for the goldfish. I mean, they tend to be more decorative than anything else. I allowed myself a few moments to fantasize about a decorative fish tank that would work beautifully in my living room, allowing me my neat freakiness while still complying with the task at hand. Sigh.

  I was still pondering this dilemma while sitting in my living room. I realized that whatever I chose had to be something that would fit my work schedule, and because I was living alone, the critter had to be able to be alone for a bunch of hours during the day. So clearly, not a dog. I guessed that I might as well give into the stereotype of being a single woman with a cat. Just great. I had now become a caricature of a spinster. Alone, lonely with a house full of cats. I should get a new housecoat too, while I was at it. If I was going to go a
ll crazy cat lady, I should go big or go home.

  By the next morning, I had resigned myself to my spinsterhood, and was trying to decide how to go about procuring a cat. I could check the classifieds online, see if anyone on Facebook happens to have a cat they are relieving themselves of, or check out an animal shelter. Hmm, I kind of liked that idea. An animal shelter. That way I would not only accomplish this ridiculous task, I would also make the world a better place for it. I briefly pictured myself atop a mountain, wind blowing, my superhero cape billowing out behind me. In the background you would hear a deep announcer’s voice: “A lone woman…terminally lone…saves the world from animal homelessness one abandoned cat at a time.”

  I made a list of everything I would need to keep a cat alive. Litter box, litter, food bowls, a couple toys, some cat kibble (is that what it’s called?). I figured that I would go shopping at lunch tomorrow and then swing by the local shelter on my way home. No sense in delaying the inevitable.

 

 

 


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