Misery

I think The Writer is trying to make me into Daughter.

I haven't mentioned her much, but Daughter is my age, lives a state away, and is a glamorous model and doesn't have much time to visit The Writer anymore.

As such, The Writer has slowly begun to integrate activities she and Daughter would do together into my day. Most of the time, I try to just ignore it. The Writer is suffering from empty-nest syndrome after all and I thought it would pass.

I was wrong.

Today, after laying out the entire fun evening that would ensue when The Writer and Daughter would dye each others hair, watch Gilmore Girls, and gab. . .The Writer asked if I would dye her hair for her today.

It was probably a bit irrational, but I panicked. I started envisioning Misery like episodes, where The Writer is Kathy Bates and I'm lying in bed with broken legs while being forced to paint nails, dye hair and watch Disney with The Writer while we eat pepperoni pizza and popcorn and no one knows that I'm there and. . .OK, then I forgot what happened at the end of Misery (does that guy die???). And also a ton of people know where I am. AND since I do everything for The Writer, I'd probably be asked to tie my own hands to the bed. In which case I could roundhouse kick The Writer and run for my life. Or to my car and drive away.

I've since calmed down, but am still creeped out. Good thing I'm moving on to bigger and better things in a few months!

****************

. . .oh yeah, some of you might not know. I'm moving in a few months. To the big city. Not THE big city. But Boston. YAY!

. . .also, I feel obligated to mention, I probably couldn't roundhouse kick anyone, mostly because I don't even know what a roundhouse kick is, it just sounds intense.