I’m just responding to a recent WordPress Daily Prompt: “When the full moon happens, you turn into a person who’s the opposite of who you normally are. Describe this new you.”
It’s not that I’m so different. It’s not like I turn into a werewolf or anything. It’s not like I get drunk after only one glass of wine, when the moon’s full. Or start behaving like Linda Blair in The Exorcist.
No, it’s nothing like that. I am just aware of its presence. Even if I don’t look up and see it. I just know it’s there. Hanging over me like a curtain. A weight. A pressure. A weirdness. A nuisance. A trouble-maker. A mischief-maker. A pain in the ass.
My senses are heightened. The hairs on the back of my neck are prickly. I wish I had eyes in the back of my head. If I had an antenna in my skull it would be vibrating. And twirling. I’m on guard. At the ready. Prepared. Waiting for the shit to hit the fan.
Because full moons are rarely good days for me. It’s been that way my whole life.
If I’m going to forget my wallet at home, that’s when it will happen. If I’m going to trip on a crack in the sidewalk, that’ll be the day. If I get a speeding ticket, you can be sure there’s a full moon. That’s when my toilets overflow. When my printer won’t print. When everyone I meet is either cranky or rude; or both. When clients are anal. And beyond picky. And testy. And a royal pain. When promised projects get cancelled. When long-arranged plans fall through. When expected deliveries are late. When the elevator gets stuck, with me in it. When mistakes abound.
When the subway’s shut down. When the cab driver has such bad B.O. I want to barf; and it’s too cold to open the windows. And it’s a looooong trip. So long, I can’t hold my breath. When flights are delayed. Or cancelled. When luggage is lost. Or damaged. When customs officials make me take everything out of my bags. When the waiter gets my order wrong. Three times. When I’m late for an important meeting. When the freezing wears off before the dentist is through with my root canal. When I slam the door on my finger.
You get the picture. It’s not pretty.
Full moons are not my friend.
There was a full moon this past Tuesday. It was my volunteer day at the hospital. Thank God no one died on my watch. I didn’t have to deliver any babies. But it was a VERY strange day. VERY. Strange enough there were several times I wished I’d stayed in bed.
Or crawled under it.
Next time I’ll know better.
What about you? Are you affected by full moons?