The setting… after a night of binge watching “Dance Moms” while melting into your couch (what’s a better show to make you feel like a normie?!?!) A whopping 92 degrees in your house, which is why you’ve resorted to using the “bedroom” fan in the living room. Your boyfriend is asleep in said bedroom and the fan now needs to be dragged back in so you can swelter just a few degrees less than what he had to fall asleep to…

So I drag the fan quietly down the hallway, making a few pit stops along the way. Gotta do the nighttime piddle, brush the teeth with carbon coco while grinning at myself maniacally in the mirror and trying to embody Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot (I have the height down pat but not so much the mayoral role) before swishing the black residue out of my mouth and down the sink. I once more grab the fan and quietly as a herd of stampeding Buffalo (I do try to be quiet as a field mouse! Unfortunately, I’m more relatable to a field of land mines during a Black Friday blowout sales event!) I make my way into the bedroom. Only the illumination of Tiki Solitaire, glaring from my phone, lends me any form of sight.

I finally manage to get my fan plugged in. Success! And set it to oscillate before turning it up the three notches that I need it at, in order to FULLY push all the stagnant, hot air around. Slowly, I make my way to my side of the bed and undress all the way down to my skivvies. I sleep naked. In my underwear. So anyway… into bed I slide. Between the cool sheet and my 25 lb. weighted blanket. I set my alarm for work. Turn on my little bedside fan. It’s quite adorable but really only fluffs the hair around my face, mostly imitating the feel of bugs on my chin and cheeks, forehead and neck while I’m half asleep… really it serves very little purpose but hey, it toys with my psyche! It’s white noise and the air helps me pretend like it’s cooling me down. What can I say? I’m a little mental.

Anyhow. As I’m laying bed, I start hearing an odd sound. Almost like my cat could be retching on my rug. It’s far too steady to be that, I know this, but I still check. With my phone aglow, from the comfort of my bed… I scan the floor and spot no sign of kitty or the slimy, Mr. Hanky looking (South Park reference), sized hairball which notoriously follows that sound. Then it stops…

Now earlier the BF and I were watching “Lost” and I had to keep asking him if his phone was going off, because I kept hearing a buzzing sound. He never heard it, of course. The crazy strikes again!! This was like that noise but worse. So I get up out of bed and stumble blindly to the location of the sound. Yep.. the fan. You’re so clever! Now, why I left my phone on the bed, is besides me… oof, nothing better then illogical nighttime thinking!! Anyway, thinking it’s just a matter of raising the front piece a little higher (readjusting typically helps all squeaks and squeals) low and behold… doesn’t that sucker just fall right off into my hands!

I hear the soft thump of what can only be a large screw hitting the thick carpet, so I begin my pat, pat, pat hand motion; while holding the fan head up with my left hand and my face, and searching blindly, but diligently, for the runaway with my right. Thankfully, the carpet didn’t allow it to get too far, and I quickly had it securely in my grasp! Woo! So here I am, I’m in the buff, in the dark trying to finagle this little fucker into the only opening I could find, which apparently, it has tasted freedom and doesn’t want to GO back in it’s hidey hole, while my face is still serving as a resting station!

Let me tell you.. I wasted a solid 20+ minutes trying to get that screw back in.. before thinking to myself, “maybe I should get my phone for some kind of light source!” Yep. I’m brilliant!! Now, I’ve procured my helpful piece of technology meant for smart people… and placed it on the floor, face-up and my tatas are casting some form of morbid, curiosity type of peep show material across the ceiling as I’m leaning this way and that way over my phone trying to see where the stupid hole is and why the head won’t actually hold the screw in.

I laid the fan down, picked it back up, laid it down again the opposite way, picked it back up… paused while my boyfriend shifted in bed, surprisingly still managing to sleep through the ruckus, and thank god for that because I’m sure the sight of me on my haunches, dead-ass still, illuminated eerily by my phone, eyes wide, hands occupied with fan body parts and bare chested while the girls free roamed and grazing my kneecaps would’ve sent him over the brink of Nightmare Land.

I did manage to get the fan back together, finger tightened only; so any oscillating is now off the table.. and I’m back in bed… relaying the sordid details to you… my faithful three readers! It’s now 2:34 a.m. and I have work soon. So I will end with this little gem..

Be thankful that your girls are still firm because when they get to hustling your ankles, you know youth has hit the fan.

Yours with a newfound respect for pajamas,

The CR