sociopathic filter

I have a rich inner life. It’s like this filter I have on the world where information, whether it’s a story someone is telling me or something I see, enters my mind and becomes warped into something entirely different. And the scenarios I imagine are endlessly amusing. And so I laugh, sometimes hysterically, when it is sometimes not appropriate.

It’s why when my friend, who works with children with developmental challenges and drives around with her car packed with toys, called to tell me she was in an accident, I dissolved into hysterical laughter. It was all very serious until she got to the part where all of her toys flew out of her car and scattered all over the road during the impact, and she had to watch as cars driving by on the highway ran them over. An immediate picture flashed into my mind: a musical apple bobbling around in the road for a few seconds before being run down by a speeding Fed Ex truck.

It’s why during a frightful snowstorm recently, when my dad called to tell me the plow ran down their mailbox,  I immediately assumed the plow guy took a go at their mailbox on purpose. It had to be intentional because the mailbox sits atop a GRANITE post and is decorated with fluorescent labels and warning flags. So we talked about conspiracy theories for a moment until the thing I imagined next sent me into laughter so intense I tripped over Joey and we both fell into the Christmas tree. I imagined the mailman going to deliver the mail later that day and having to get out of his truck and crawl around on the ground digging to find the opening to their mailbox.

Once when Eli and I were on the way to visit his parents, we saw a package lying in the middle of the street. I told Eli to stop the car so I could get it and when we opened it we realized we’d scored two jars of designer meat marinade. There was no address on the box, but it was sealed so we took it home with us. When we read the label, we realized it was a special kind of marinade that you have to inject into a roaster. So we went to Walmart to buy a marinade injection kit and we couldn’t find the injection kits, even though several people assured us they really existed and we’d be able to find them at Walmart. So I went up to a kid wearing a Walmart smock to explain what we were looking for. And if you’ve ever shopped at Walmart, you know that the only thing an 18 year old Walmart kid can help you with is video games, but I figured what the hell, it was worth a shot. I explained that we needed to shoot up a chicken with an herb basil seasoning we found in the street so where are your chicken syringes? The kid just stared at me until Eli leaned in and asked him where we could find meat thermometers. He figured they would be in the same section and he was right. The whole time we were in the store I couldn’t stop grinning about how stupid it was that we were buying a whole special instrument so that we’d be able to use the seasoning we found on the ground. It’s so delightfully trashy. (By the way, the chicken was amazing. Buttery and delicious)

A guy I used to work with had to wear an orthopedic boot on his foot because of an injury to his ankle and one time I was walking behind him on the stairs when his boot slipped and he slid down the last five stairs and slammed into the door at the bottom. I laughed so hard I bit my own tongue and I must have swallowed a bunch of air because I had horrible stomach cramps once the fit passed. I probably should’ve offered sympathy rather than laughing in his face, but he executed the skid so gracefully it was like watching an Olympic event for the handicapped (which, you can probably imagine, is exactly what was going through my mind. Full body cast pole vaulting!)

I’m trying hard to entertain myself today by thinking of things that are funny because everything has been pretty serious around here over the last few days. My mom got sick earlier this week with what we thought was just a cold. But then there was the fever and back pain and then she was confused and having trouble finishing her sentences. I’m having a hard time reconciling the fact that I just saw her on Sunday and she was fine and today she is in intensive care and her doctors are throwing around words like stroke and neurological damage. And also there may be something wrong with her heart. It’s hard to believe my mom is only sixty years old.

I guess my filter isn’t working for this because I can’t imagine any scenario that makes what’s happening anything but horrible.