Pandara's Box

There are parts of my brain, dark, dank parts, that I don't like to go into. It's like that creepy under-the-stairs closet that nobody likes to walk by in the dark, because you don't know if some fanged clown or other night-time nasty won't just pop out and grab you.

Yeah, I have a section like that in my head. And I do have a creepy clown in there. Tied up.

Anyway, quite some time ago, I decided that I wasn't going to go there anymore, and it took some work, but I have managed to stay away, because, believe it or not, that fanged, creepy clown is me, and letting it out isn't an option until I learn how to take that creepy clown and turn it into something nice, like a unicorn, or maybe a pile of candy.

On Sunday, something happened that pushed me towards the tied up creepy clown, and I almost, almost opened that little creepy door under the stairs of my brain, but didn't. I was rather proud of myself.

Whew...Crisis averted.

Then Jeremy came up behind me and was, almost literally, doing this:

"Just open it...just do it! You know you want to! I know I would if I were you...in fact, why don't you just pretend it's me, and then it won't be you, and then blah blah blah....do it...."

Before I knew what had happened, the creepy clown had somehow gotten untied and was running around like a lunatic on Red Bull and ginseng pills.

I liked being creepy clown. It was FUN!

I kept laughing maniacally to myself all evening, and Jeremy laughed too, and we laughed together, and then creepy clown laughed, and then whispered in my ear that I should eat Jeremy, but I batted creepy clown away, because I wasn't hungry, and Jeremy needed to shave anyway.

Something miraculous happens, though, when I go to sleep: Creepy clown gets tied up and shoved back into the closet.

Maybe it's my conscience, or maybe creepy clown has a conscience, or maybe creepy clownness has a time limit, or something. Maybe creepy clown doesn't like sunlight, and prefers the under-the-stairs closet. I don't know, but it goes back in there penitently, or maybe victoriously, or maybe both.

Anyway, I woke up the next day racked with guilt. Creepy clown poked its head of out of the closet and tsked at me and then vanished. It gave me a little gumption, though, and I waved away the little bits of remaining conscience that I had left.

I called Jeremy, and he rallied my spirits.

He's so bad for me sometimes. But I love him to death for it.

Anyway...creepy clown. Yeah. I think everyone has one.

Somewhere...in the dark corners of your mind...waiting...