Rain Puddle Strip Tease.

It rained today. And that means rain puddles. I know. You know. We're all aware of the puddles.  What you may be unaware of is how cool puddle jumping really is. It should be an extreme sport. And I should be the world champion. Cause I'd like to be. It'd just make me feel good.

I begged Neil to go puddle jumping with me. He declined. But since he knew I'd be lonely, and since I make puddle jumping look soo o o good, he stood far off to the side and took pictures.

I started with a full outfit. Sexy.

Mm mm. Would you look at those Keens? So sexy. I can hardly stand it.

Ok ok. Ya got me. Though comfortable, the Keens aren't sexy. So I took them off.

And then all of a sudden, it was like, if the shoes come off, everything else had to come off. Pop! Into thin air my clothes went. And I was left, momentarily suspended in the air, with my mothers swimsuit which she wore in the 80's. Since I desperately needed a new swimsuit, I made her mail it to me. And ever since I have patiently waited for the day when I could gallop around in my matronly, yet sexy, one piece. And today was that day.

Unfortunately however, I suspect the swimsuit's "shelf bra" probably gave out somewhere in the mid 90's. Which left my dangles...danglin'. Unsupportive swimsuits. Not sexy.

So if you know me very well, you know what my last/favorite resort was. 

Nude puddle jumping.

Ok ok. I lied. Though nude puddle jumping would be my favorite/last resort. We ACTUALLY took Neils last resort option.

And he only took pictures from the knees down. 

Crazy.

I was informed this week by my classmates that we had a book report due.

ON AN ENTIRE BOOK.

Cool. Backwards. But you get the point.

Or do you?

I hate reading. Reading is informative.

And I don't like being informed.

Especially when the book is about mental illness. And shares individual stories of people and how they went totally nuts thinking people where following them and the CIA was sending them secret messages. I had no idea this was like...a real thing. Like I said. Let me live naive. In this situation especially. Because now... I feel very unsure of myself.

Most examples in the book began their mental health battles in their early 20's. Which is not an uncommon age for schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, ect. to surface.

I'M IN MY EARLY 20's.

So:
Driving home from work last night, I'm pretty sure I saw a furry mountain goat in the road. Hallucination? Or maybe a government spy?

Last night I turned the lights off and went to climb into bed when I saw a tall skinny shape in my window. Curtains? Or maybe a government spy?

In the middle of the night I woke up to scratching. On our head board. I looked around but I couldn't see anyone scratching our head board. I'm now fairly certain it was a government spy. A mountain goat government spy that happens to be tall and skinny and have fingernails. Trying to send me a secret code that only I could understand.

I have to go finish reading my book now. But I'm scared to. Because there is probably a hidden code in there for me. That only I can understand. And then the safety of the world is going to rest in my hands.

Yo. This is the real deal. Not a face-in-holed, face-in-holed
picture of a mountain goat with fingernails following me.