Your Mid-Week Update for 11/30/16

So a lot has happened in the last two weeks.

About five minutes after I posted my update last week – you know the one where I said nothing ever happens and I hate it? – I collapsed on the stairs at home and was rushed to the hospital. Apparently I had an infection from the gift that keeps on giving. They’re keeping me for a few more days so I have to make this update brief. They’re threatening to confiscate all my electronics if I don’t stop working.

I hope this wound heals soon. At this rate, I’ll be on a first name basis with all the attendants come Christmas morning.

Speaking of Christmas.

It’s an early miracle; my mother isn’t coming, my sister isn’t coming, my mother-in-law isn’t coming. For the first time in, what must be decades, it’s just going to be my immediate family. James, Jason and I will have a nice, QUIET, dinner. I cannot even imagine what that silence will feel like.

Shit, the nurse is coming.

One last thing: Lydia has to die. Every day that I’ve been in the hospital, I’ve gotten a “reply all” email from her about trivial things. Like cleaning out the fridge or finding a bug in her cubicle. She even sent an email to the entire office about my hospitalization wanting to send flowers or some bullshit.

She has to go.

As do I.

Nurse Jackie has Jell-O.

Remind me to tell you about Nurse Jackie next week. She’s insane.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 11/23/16

I have nothing to report this week.

You ever notice that when I say I have nothing to report, I end up with some revelation or long-winded update? I promise, that isn’t the case this week. Nothing has changed. Sometimes weeks move so quickly that nothing significant can happen. That’s the way life works.

Sometimes I don’t like it.

I don’t like a lot of things.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 11/16/16

I think my sister has officially stopped trying to talk to Jason. I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks and I think she’s finally starting to move on with her life. That’s really all I want for my sister: to stop clinging to the past and make a fresh start; without falling back into her old criminal ways, or trying to steal my son.

Okay, we all know that’s bullshit. I just want my sister to go back to jail – without actually having a hand in it – but please don’t make me say that out loud. I could really use a win right now.

Lydia, my nosey new coworker, has been snooping around Heather lately. Apparently, they have “so much in common” and should “definitely have drinks after work on Friday”. I will not let this woman steal Heather away from me. I’ve grown fond of the bitch and we’ve bonded over the last few months. No one can destroy that weird co-worker friendship we have. So, what if I sound insecure; that is my right as a human being. Heather and I have history; and the fact that I haven’t killed her after all these years together must be a sign that I need her in my life. Oh my god, I’m being protective of my friend. That is such a weird feeling for me to have. One more slip up and Lydia dies.

Jason came home on Thursday to tell me that he failed all but one of his midterms. I’m less upset that he failed and more worried because it seems like he didn’t even try. James and I went to all this trouble of setting him up with a psychologist who’s been working on concentration techniques to combat his natural urge to wander. We worked with his college to make sure he was given proper time and a distraction-free environment for testing. We even took him to a doctor to discuss his medication options. He didn’t use any of the tools we provided him. He didn’t set up a separate exam time in a special room, he didn’t use any of the tricks the psychologist taught him, he didn’t even study. He was working on his computer all night. I remember seeing him rewiring some part of his cheap secondary computer with his text book open, going through notes. But he didn’t translate that to the classroom. All he had to do was try. This kid is going to cost me a fortune in education, I just know it.

James is fine – at least I thought he was fine. Until he came home Saturday night after having too many drinks with the boys and confessed that he worships me. It wasn’t that he said it, it was how he said it. So desperate and sad. It broke my heart just to hear him say it. Like there was something wrong. Something he’s not telling me. Or maybe he was just drunk and blathering. That’s not the first time he’s used the word “worship”. That was the beginning of our whole relationship. I loved the convenience of a cop who admired me and he was great fun between the sheets. And then I fell in love and I thought we’d moved past that phase.

There has to be something he’s not telling me.

I asked him about it the next morning and he says he doesn’t remember. I need to stop obsessing over things like this. That’s how you end up in the psyche ward at 2am. Again.

Aren’t you glad we’re past all that paranoid bullshit with Daniel?

Yeah, me too.

Look, all I’m saying is that it’s been a very emotional week and I just need someone to lie to me; in lieu of that, I’ll lie and tell myself that I’m justified in taking two hands this week because I’ve found I really like the motion of severing body parts.

I know to be careful and not do that for every victim but it wouldn’t kill me to add a little spice to my repertoire once in a while. Try a new method for a while. Decapitation and dismemberment is one I haven’t really played with since my late twenties. Maybe I’ve still got it.

Let’s focus on that for now instead of Lydia and Heather’s budding relationship, and Jason’s expensive winding road to education, and James’ obvious secrets. Yes, let’s focus on the positive; limbless corpses.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 11/09/16

In my 20+ years of violently interacting with humanity I’ve survived with a minimal amount of scrapes and bruises. I had an injury-free childhood. The occasional swimming lesson and playground antics were hardly cause for a trip to the hospital.

I think the worst I ever had it was when I was 7 or 8. I fell backwards off the monkey bars and hit my head on a metal railing. I regained consciousness just as the ambulance arrived at the hospital and I had to stay overnight for observation but I was completely fine, except for a small bruise on my neck that lasted for a month. My mother never let me go back to that playground. We had to walk an extra ten blocks just to find another one – and the swing set sucked.

For the first few years of my career shift into murder, I made more than a few anonymous trips to the emergency room but nothing that ever left a scar. My left leg is still sore after that car accident a year and a half ago. And then there was the gash on my hand that I totally blame on Heather. That one left some definite scarring but it still healed fairly quickly. Not to mention the thumb that I absolutely dislocated – or at least severely bruised – over the summer.

Nothing compares to this.

I was released from the hospital within two weeks of being admitted and the doctors say I’m healing well, but there’s this stinging pain in my side constantly. And…I can admit to you, dear readers, that I’ve developed this reflex lately. Any time someone passes me on my side, I flinch; and I get this shiver up my spine. I freeze.

I know it’s just an instinctual reaction – my body protecting me from getting hurt again – but it’s an annoying feeling. Like I’m out of control. I can’t wait for my body to heal properly so I can move on.

In the meantime, I’m back at work, showing off my scar and accepting sympathy visits from all my coworkers. I’m killing, thought slightly less so as to not reopen my stitches, and I’ve decided to keep up the serial killer gimmick but cut it back to once or twice a month. Just, whenever I get bored.

I can feel the holidays winding up after Halloween which means snow, and stress, and crowds of people. I’d better be healed by the time things really get started. Christmas shopping is one of my favourite times to do a little snatch and grab kill. Robberies, car jackings, accidents. The crowds make it so easy.

I’ve still got a few weeks to properly heal. It better heal quickly.

I’m through with the myriad of injuries I’ve endured this past year. It’s time to move on.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 11/02/16

I am so sorry, dear readers; I can’t believe I posted whatever nonsense that was last week. Actually, I can believe that, I just can’t believe my husband would let me. You see, I spent most of Monday night until Friday afternoon in the hospital but I had my laptop with me and I remember opening it early Wednesday and then the nurse coming in...and that’s all. It wasn’t until hours later that I realized I had posted my morphine-induced ramblings. Thank you all for your concern, I’m feeling much better now.

It’s entirely my fault, I know that. I can still be frustrated with the situation. I was fending off a rather aggressive victim when he managed to stab me with my own knife. I may have been a little overzealous with his kill but I was also bleeding from a stab just below my ribs. Nothing fatal, obviously but it did cause me a lot of pain and so while I was starting to bleed out, I quickly called James from a nearby payphone and walked myself to the hospital four blocks away.

I claimed a man tried to mug me but I got away from him and that’s around the time I passed out from shock and blood loss. I woke up a little less than a day later to find James sitting at my bedside and a nurse tending to my wound. According to her I was very lucky to have survived my ordeal as well as I did. Apparently the stabbing was all flash and no damage. I lost almost 3 pints of blood but no organs were damaged and ribs are completely unharmed. Almost like it was made by someone flailing about who happened to slice across my side.

Didn’t make it hurt any less.

The police arrived shortly after to take my statement of events, to which I quickly recounted before a nurse ushered them away so I could get my rest. I remember James kissing my forehead and telling me it’s all taken care of so I can only assume that the crime scene is spotless and he cleaned up yet another one of my messes. That man is too good for me. He stayed with me every night while I was in the hospital, trusting Jason to take care of himself for a few days – even drove the kid to see me a few times. I could tell Jason was worried but didn’t want to show it. I thought it was sweet, actually. I believe that was Wednesday evening when I was at the height of my hospital-grade pain killers which probably didn’t help my boys’ with their worries.

I reread what I posted last week and I can’t make sense of most of it. I know last week is usually my Halloween/Horror-themed post so it was kind of fitting, wasn’t it? A little glimpse into the back of my psyche.

I don’t think anyone wants to visit that place again anytime soon.

But I can assure you, dear readers, that I’m recovering well. The doctor said I still have to get checked out in a few days to makes sure I have no infections or the like. I’m also at risk of ripping my stitches if I perform any rigorous activity which means James has been sleeping on his side of the bed, and I’ve abstained from murder for the last week or so.

I’ve gotten much better at controlling my urges the past few years. A week or two away from my craft won’t drive me insane the way it used to. The only problem now is the “Hand of God” or “Hand to God” killer (I can’t remember which). Should I keep it going as a side project or just let it go all together? It was only meant to be an October project and we’re officially into November. Besides, I didn’t even get to finish October with the victims that I wanted. Maybe I’ll just take it to the end of the year and then see how it goes.

Sound good?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe