Tuesday evening was quite possibly the worst evening I’ve had in 2012. It all started when I arrived home, and had the thought that it would be a good idea - this being Georgia and nearing 90 degrees - to water all the plants on my porch. Being the super genius that I am I figured watering the large hanging plant that a Dove family moved in to would be a good idea as well.
It was not.
Just by being in their proximity Mama bird flew away, afraid for her life, and immediately got into a fight with a large crow. Luckily, she won. A split second later little baby bird #1 (all Doves have two babies, a clutch) decides to fly away as well. Well, glide. Well, fall not-so-gracefully… to a corner of my porch. Since I am not only a super genius, but also a very level headed person who makes fantastic decisions under pressure, I of course thought grabbing him and putting him back in his nest would be the most logical thing to do.
It was not.
For such a young, spastic thing he was very quick, and managed to take a flying leap off the porch. I can only imagine he spread his little wings and glided down because when I looked over the side he was sitting contentedly, still very much alive, on the ground three floors down. I ran into my house and out the front door, both of my cats looking at me like I had lost my mind. (It should be noted I was wearing a skirt and heels, as I had just gotten off work.) As I scooted down the hill that was covered in pine straw (very slippery) I was sure that the little baby dove had not seen me, and being the extremely dexterous person I am, I could grasp him easily.
I did not.
As soon as I got close he immediately fluttered off as hard as a baby bird can, and slowly drifted down, down, down, to his watery doom. When he landed in the middle of the rather large pond I let out a bad Star Wars Episode III “NOOOOOO!”. Defeated, I walked back up to my apartment. Mama bird had not returned, and baby bird #2 just looked at me like “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!?!”. I could see Baby Bird #1 thrashing violently in the pond, at which point I lost it.
I began bawling on my sofa. I’ve been experimenting with makeup lately so within a few minutes I looked as though I were wearing a burglars mask. Black eyeliner, mascara, and eyeshadow streaking across my face. I managed to wipe it off and wandered back into my living room, at which point my cat, RiverSong, looked at me, squatted on the floor, and took a gigantic dump (which my friend Shelley would later describe as karma getting me back for killing the bird). She was literally 4 inches away from her litterbox, but apparently the floor just seemed like a more appropriate place for poop.
I wailed a little, and cleaned it up.
If I weren’t so completely upset I may have noticed the fact it was extremely warm in my apartment. Instead of taking note of this and making other arrangements for the evening with a friend who’s air conditioner was in working condition, I decided to order a pizza.
Because hey, I’ll admit it. I eat my feelings. I eat the hell out of ‘em.
Then I smoked a bowl. Because I also smoke my feelings.
Eventually the 10” pizza arrived, and I devoured it. All of it. I ate a whole freaking pizza.
Then decided I needed froyo. So off to the Yogilicious shop I went, and a gigantic bowl of frozen yogurt covered in brownies, mochi, hot fudge, and sprinkles was consumed. After watching some ridiculous movie I went to bed.
It was so hot I had to strip the bed down, and slept in just my underwear. Even then, it was still too hot to go to sleep. I opened a window, and it was cooler outside my apartment than in. At one point I debated taking a pillow onto my back porch and sleeping out there, but I was concerned that mama bird (who had finally returned) would attack my head or find some other way to avenge her drown child.
The next day was better. I went to work, and related this tale of woe to a coworker, who laughed hysterically at my suffering. My A/C got fixed, and I managed to make it through the day without killing one living creature.