No more of hoodie guy. I am hoping that he has decided to leave strange scribbled-up presents on other people's doorsteps and go about his business.
I need to tell you about TODAY'S strangeness. I'm stressing that because every day there's a little something special here.
I arrived home after another fruitless attempt to redeem myself with my academic advisor to find a courier standing on the sidewalk looking confused. He looked even more confused when I pulled in to the driveway. Maybe a long day or something, who knows.
I asked him if he was lost and he just held out a package to me. "Ten Hundred Holloway?" he asked.
"Well, I say One Thousand, but since next door is Nine Hundred..."
And the guy was still holding it out to me and I realized he wanted me to take it. I'm a little weird about packages right now so I tried to read the label first. Weirdly, it had my name on it.
So I'm thinking fabulous, another book right as I'm relaxing.
But the guy's standing there with this funny look on his face holding the package out to me, and I can tell he's not going to let it go until I take it.
So I take it. And then I see that it's from Mr. Talbrie. And I give the biggest sigh of relief ever because the guy looks at me with a raised eyebrow, then wishes me a good day and jumps in his truck and hauls out of there.
I am now totally convinced that people are just utterly fucking insane in this part of the world, and he was a part of that.
The package, it turns out, was a letter from Mr. Talbrie explaining what the hell was going on. He was "sourcing a job" up north and was actually living in a furnished apartment somewhere with his family. They were trying to sell the house and everything in it, and for the time being he wants me to stick around and watch it.
And I was about ready to drop the letter in the street and finish taking my stuff out of the guest bedroom when I saw the check that was included. Payment for sticking around until everything was liquidated and making sure nothing was vandalized and the pets were cared for, the letter explained.
Written on that check was a number bigger than just about any other number I'd ever seen.
So I'm sitting here in the living room with the dog asleep on my toes with my brain going crazy. On one hand, I'm worried hoodie-guy will come back around. On the other hand, I have nowhere to go and I've been putting my belongings back in a storage unit where it was all dumped after I left student housing early this spring. And that's not to mention the weird sounds or the fact that people around here generally act like freaks about this place.
I'm not sure what to do, guys. It's a lot of money. A LOT of money. And the Talbries seem to need the help. I would really hate to suddenly just jet and leave them with nobody to watch after the critters, you know?
Tonight's going to be spent chewing on raw Pop Tarts and gummi bears and drinking the last of the flat Mt. Dew left in the kitchen. After that, maybe crank the TV and watch a movie until I pass out. When I wake up I'll make the decision.
As a side note, I noticed some of the comments I made on another blog have disappeared, and I apologize if I was being waaay too friendly and stuff. I don't know you guys, and I didn't mean to get all up in your thing. I hope you'll forgive me, Tom and crew. I was just wanting to help but you guys obviously got your own thing going on, so I'll keep to my thing. Good luck with that idiot dressing up as Himself.
G'night internet.
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