Your Mid-Week Update for 03/29/17

My talk with Heather about getting off of my god damn couch was much more successful than I ever could have imagined. I approached her last Wednesday afternoon and very calmly asked if she’d be willing to stop by her house to pick up her mail this weekend. She was quiet for a moment and then she nodded slowly and agreed to drive over on Saturday.

And that was that. I took her to her house, doorstep piling up with mail, and even convinced her to go inside. I’ll admit, I did a fantastic job of cleaning up but now the living room seemed empty. We didn’t stay long but we were only gone long enough to grab her things and move them back into her own bedroom.

Heather is officially back at home and doing well, from what I hear. I kind of wish I’d gently kicked her out sooner. But it’s done now so things can go back to normal. I’m even back on my regular kill schedule which is just orgasmically wonderful. That is a word that should be a part of the English language for how powerful the imagery is – at least I think so. I’m just so satisfied with being able to go back to committing murder without worrying about anyone else. It’s making things more fun.

For example, I had no idea there were so many nerve endings on the back and thigh area. It was fascinating to see a young man just crumple with a simple jab from my nail gun – which does not shoot like a gun, thank you, film industry. It still packs a powerful punch and telling your husband that you stapled a man to death is just delightful. His face just lit up. He is so adorable when he wants to be. God I love him.

Give me a break, my anniversary is coming up and I might actually get to spend it with my husband. Wouldn’t that be nice?

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 03/22/17

You’d think that at my age I’d be able to confront conflict and acknowledge emotion but at heart I’m still a twenty year old who has no idea how to find a real balance and happiness with life.

Which is why I’m having such a problem telling Heather that she needs to get off my fucking couch.

I am happy to support my friend in a hobby that we both seem to share but it’s time. It’s god damn time she went home and dealt with the fact that she murdered her husband and I’ve been doing all the hard work. I cleaned her house, I reported him missing, I filed all of her paperwork so she could sit on my couch moping for weeks on end. She needs to start doing something productive. And that starts with her sleeping in own bed at home by the end of this week.

I have no other priorities other than getting Heather off my god damn couch by Friday night. Or so help me there will be another murder.

She got toothpaste on the counter and didn’t clean it up. I know that’s an incredibly minor thing but it’s on a list of 400 other minor things that she’s done in the past month to piss me off. She left an empty milk cartoon in the fridge, she’s stopped folding up the blankets on the couch, on more than one occasion she’s “accidentally” walked into my room without knocking. It’s like living with a frat boy and I’m over it.

The boys have been ready for her to leave for a while now but I’ve defended her because she’s my friend and apparently murder is traumatic but now she’s just pissing me off.

I’ve thought about how to approach her and I’ve narrowed it down to two approaches: “Get over it and get out!” or “Hey Heather, I thought we’d drive by your house today and pick up your mail.”

Like I said: the emotional stability of a twenty-year-old. I’d like to go with the latter but something tells me I’m going to end up shouting the former on Friday afternoon before she leaves work.

I promise that’s not my plan but realistically, that’s what’s going to happen.

That’s not my intention but it will happen.

I’m a bad person sometimes.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 03/15/17

I opened the letter – of course I did. Curiosity finally got the better of me around 4am on Friday morning when I was up thinking about my life to this date. When we had career day in elementary school, I never would have guessed I’d end up with a loving husband, a fucked up child, a deranged woman living on my couch, and two equally murderous jobs.

It’s a copy of her college entrance essay. I’m not going to share it but it was very well written and a very moving piece about her family and her personal experiences. It was 1000 words that made it feel like Sandra was sitting beside me. But I was right: knowing what was in the letter brought back emotions that didn’t need to be addressed at 4am on a Friday. Now I’m just tired and distracted but ultimately quiet.

I don’t like it. I hate feeling mildly out of control.

There’s nothing…there’s nothing else.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 03/08/17

Things have officially settled. I hesitate to say it because optimism undoubtedly leads to tragedy. It is the arrogance of hope. If I’ve taught you anything in all our years together it’s that arrogance will get you killed. So when I say that things have settled, I worry about jinxing the situation but at the same time, I need to tell you that the situation in my household has reached a plateau and I’m happy about it.

James’ busy schedule has seemed to reach a middle ground where he only works nights three times a week and I actually get to sleep with my husband. It’s not about having sex with him; it’s about the comfort of sleeping next to him. It’s a weird habit where I like sharing in the warmth and touch that we provide each other. I’ve always been used to his unusual hours and having to sleep alone on occasion but the last few months, he’s been working the late shift more and more often. I know it’s because he’s working through his promotion and the late hours are so he can keep me safe which is why I never complain…to his face. I can rant and whine to you all I damn well please. So long as James never learns how selfish I am. But he’s back so I have no reason to complain about it more than I already have today.

Jason is also back to a normal schedule. He’s sleeping more and going to work every day. I even found the courage to ask him about college the other day. I didn’t push him to go to school after his father’s death – and the school was very accommodating when I phrased it so generally – but he’s bee back at school for over a month now and I’m worried about what his future plans are. I know his grades aren’t the best but he has a specialized interest and that has to drive him to do something productive. I hope. I know I shouldn’t push him but it’s alright because he answered me honestly. He doesn’t know. He still has a lot of the same interests but Andrew made him think about what else life has to offer. I will respect his wishes – whether or not they involve college – I want him to be okay. Whether or not I agree with his methods he is working towards that.

Heather is not working towards this coveted “okay” stasis. She is, she’s just going about it very differently. She came back to work full time on Monday and even sassed me which is a very excellent thing. But she’s grown quieter around the other girls in the office – especially Lydia. She’s been ignoring her the past two days and kept her head down whenever people come to my office. She’s still working efficiently and responds with a generally snarky tone whenever someone talks to her; but she’s not instigating conversation. It’s perfectly reasonable to me that she needs a little time to readjust to this much social interaction but I still count it as a win: Heather is sitting at her desk acting like a judgemental bitch and getting everyone’s work done.

Which brings me to…myself. I feel tired all the time. I’m eating a little healthier – since Heather insisted on grocery shopping with me – she’s still living on my couch but I don’t mind it. I’m content. Until I was cleaning out my office desk last night. I do it about every five years and it’s mostly just to shred my outdated paperwork. I found a letter from Sandra in my top drawer. It hadn’t been opened and I don’t remember putting it in there so I assume Sandra slipped it in when I wasn’t looking. I haven’t read it yet. It could be nothing. But it could also be something very important.

If I never open it then I’ll never have to know if Sandra had even more secrets that she never shared.

I’ll get to remember her the way I want to.

Besides, things are going well now. No need to stir up the past.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

Your Mid-Week Update for 03/01/17

I have to keep this brief, I still have blood in my fingernails and it’s going to take forever to clean them out before work. I’ve seen people spurt blood from their neck in movies and I’ve seen them gush in real life, but this was a whole new level. Tweezers were not supposed to be the most dangerous weapon I used in my career and yet it was surprisingly useful for a close-up kill. Because it doesn’t just poke a hole or slice in a thin line; it’s an open, gapping chunk of neck that just doesn’t stop – hence why I was so unprepared for how much cleanup would be involved. It was a gift from my husband so how could I refuse? He brought me this sweet young woman who was walking home from a bad break up and just needed some company. She was actually very company. She was normal and had normal problems like a sexist boss, and an insensitive ex-boyfriend, and car payments that were clashing with her student loan payments. We had a very nice chat before I killed her. I’d forgotten how nice it is to just sit and talk with someone. It was a nice reminder that the world keeps going and you can move on. Things will get back to normal.

Heather is coming back to work next week. Her mousey temp has been fine but she’s no Heather. I’ve always liked Heather’s work ethic, that’s nothing new, so it stands to reason that when she’s not around I miss her. I still can’t believe I let myself get this attached to my secretary but that’s a whole other problem.

Now I really need to go and scrub before work.

It’s always the little things that will get you.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe