House Sprites, Bending Time, and The Curator Lobster

This morning, my face was aching from laughter so it took me a couple of seconds to pause, stem the 2nd wave of laughing flooding in… Breathe… Ease my face out of grin into talking mode before I could answer the question put to me…

“Sometimes, I feel like my whole life is just a series of events where I’m in a constant battle with a subconscious, whose main purpose in life is to fuck with my day… What do you think?

What do I think? Well I’ve just witnessed your day so far and hmmm… You could be on to something… But then it could be something in the air… It could be sprites!

The reason we’re having the conversation is because I’m now running nearly an hour and a half late… Night-shift chaos needed to be cleared up before my passengers were set free… That’s half an hour… We’re nearly back to base and the poser of the question realised he didn’t have his car keys… Stupidly I didn’t ask ‘When was the last time you saw them?’. Instead I asked a series of pat down questions… Have you checked pockets… Bag… Under your butt… etc. Followed by ‘OK, answer quickly yes or no. Have you got them with you? Quick yes or no. Quick! Before I pass that layby on the other side where I can quick spin back or we’ve got to go miles down to the roundabout…’

No! No! Definitely not got them on me.

Wheelspin turn and back we go…

Back to square one… He gets out the car, walks towards the entrance, about turns and with far away look in his eyes, walks slowly back towards the car… ‘Karen… Did I give the car keys to my mum?’

I don’t know? Maybe? You share the car so it’s possible… Is your mum working today? Is she waiting for the car? I can’t remember seeing your car this morning… Where did you park?

No… No, she’s not working…

OK… So how are you going to get home?

Oh, no worries, Mum rang to say she’s picking me up. Oh she’s going to be pissed that I’ve lost the keys…

What’s she picking you up in?

The car… Why?

And she’s driving now, you say… Hmm… I wonder how she started the engine?

Oh! She’s got the keys! Karen, can you just repeatedly beat me around the head?

Er… No! Not in current clime, that’s a tabloid headline writer’s wet dream in the making and another riot heating up. I’m not beating you up without signed consent forms, disclaimers, non disclosure agreement, H&S risk assessment, insurance waivers… N’ah! Way too much paperwork, besides I like you enough to not kill you…

OK… Back to maybe it’s sprites… Sprites make things mysteriously disappear and reappear… My morning had started with sprites…

Tarot in the Land of Mystereum (c) Jordan Hoggard 2012

Early this morning, I remembered that I had a bootleg copy of my favourite deck… Bootleg copy? Not sure it’s the right term… A bastardised print job leading to a minideck stashed amongst my magical things. Where was it? It’s not where it’s supposed to be… Maybe I shouldn’t look for it? After all, the 4 legit copies I have are under lockdown until I get my D. O. shifted to Done.

4 copies?

Yeah… One… A signed, for my hands only, deck stowed away in the helpful friends sector of my room…

Two… My original purchase, battered and well worn like an old pair of leather shoes… Past it’s best? Or stinking smell reminder of happy days and travels and strangers met…My much lived and loved deck with handcrafted replacement card… A substitute standing in for the Hanged Man that slipped his noose and set loose into freedom…

Three… The tossed aside gigging deck, put well out of the way of types of clients I refuse to read for these days…

Four… Virgin intacta still in box awaiting deflowering when I finally get my work done!

The forgotten 5th, suddenly remembered… A loophole in my abstinence promise? Just a little mini hit…

Nah! Sprites had other ideas… It’s vanished! Vamooshed! Not in this dimension! I had a good old hunt around… I found other things that I’d forgotten that I had…

1. A pocketful of seaside! A handful of shells and stones from one of my favourite beaches. Yay! That satisfies my yearnings… A little fix of salty smells and clattering sounds as I roll them in my hands…

2. Handmade runes from baked fimo and tumblestones… Ah… Very handy! I can use these like little post it notes on my desk to flag my attention back to what I’m supposed to be focusing on…

3. Oh-oh! Another bootleg! Oops! Here’s my excuse… My good friend D, every so often visits and brings with him a new deck, he’ll toss it in my direction and ask me to break it in… Wake it up, shake it up, put it through its paces, find out what it does… He one day brought around a rune deck… Oh bugger! I got it in my hands and I didn’t want to give it back… Now D’s visits became a source of anxiety as I’d hide his deck before arrival and then keep him talking hoping he wouldn’t ask for it back… Though to be fair, he talks a lot… LOTS! He’s not hard to divert… And I love him for it… He’s a sagg so you know you’re never going to run out of topics to talk about… Time maybe? Thoughts and ideas…never… Anyway, a photocopier, a laminator, a few hours and a bit of patience and I’ve cut myself a new deck. That means I’m not going to be completely gutted when I have to hand back what’s not mine. At a later date, a lucky find on eBay placed a legit deck at a bargain price into my hands. I messaged D – Hey, I’ve still got your deck, pick it up next time you’re here. You know what he says? He says – What deck? Oh that deck… Oh, I forgot you’d got that, you could have kept it!

4. My handmade transparent set! Oh FML! I’ve been sat with a big pile of transparencies and a broken laminator thinking when can I replace this to make a set of see through runes… FML! I’ve already made them! Wicked! That’s freed up a couple of hours or so…

I get distracted by a scarf I’ve found and spread it on the floor… Oh… I’ve got a great idea what to do with this, I just need to get… Hmmm… What was that? I’ve just bumped into something behind me… Hmm.. Glug Glug Glug… What’s that noise? Anyway… I just need… Eh? Wtf? A slow creeping cold wetness spreading across my right butt cheek… Oh FFS! A can of pop left on the floor by one of the kids… I pick it up… Sprite! Fucking house sprites again! I glance the time… Oh Jesus! I should have been gone 20 minutes ago… I’m going to be so late… Euggh… Now I need to wash again and change… It’s a quick job as I do take out insurances against my own mutinies… Today insurance is a burnt orange dress that’s quickly flung on bringing instant glamour that blinds people to the fact that I’m actually pretty disheveled with unkempt hair and was in too much of a rush to pair up matching things… Miraculously, I bend time and arrive at first pickup 2 minutes early… Yeah, well I’ve already told you what happened then

I get to next batch of pickups. I get asked ‘What’s happened? You’re never late? They’ll be ringing to check we’re not dead!’

I run through a quick version, say – No I’m not late, I’ve magicked up a shorter shift for the birthday girl!

But my birthday was 2 days ago?

Yeah… Welcome to my world, you’re getting birthday week… Get to my age and you’ll get birthday month!

Yeah Karen, that new manager is hot on time keeping, we’re really late…The phone will be ringing.

Nah! I put some magic on it. Today no one will notice you’re late, they’re going to forgot you’re not there yet…

I said hey B’day Gal, what do you make of this question?

Ah! OK! Yes! Absolutely my subconscious is fucking me over! I wake up this morning very early wide awake for no reason! Why? I need sleep! Not wide awake club! Sometimes I think I’m living in a video game as a character… A video game played by a player who doesn’t know the rules… A bad clumsy player… And if he plays like I play Sims then as soon as he gets bored then I’m screwed as he will drown me in the swimming pool!

I remembered reading a couple of years ago about the phenomenon of people creating Sims to simulate murdering them… Oh… OK… So you’re one of those players?

Oh yes! I’m bored with you! I kill you!

I shoot a quick glance in my rear view mirror to check in on the look on the boyfriend’s face. He’s sat in the back smiling and looking chilled and winks at me. OK, he’s safe, he knows how to keep her interested…

I throw out an open question… What if we’re all just avatars in someone else’s game? What do you make of that?

Yes! That sounds very possible! That’s the best theory yet for all this corona madness… I mean come on! Why aren’t we all dead yet? I’ve been coughed on and coughed on for months, coughed on by people who have died from it and still I keep testing negative?! Wtf? That’s gotta be a coding glitch?

A little chuckle from the rear right… Karen? What’s that funny phrase you come out with?

Dunno N? You’re gonna have to narrow that done…

That one you say… Oh… Wait… I know… Lockdown meltdown! Are you guys having a lockdown meltdown?

Laughter all round! Birthday Gal answers – Maybe? Maybe not… Maybe we got played into a new level…

We arrive… Nobody has noticed we’re 90 mins late…

So… That’s house sprites and time bending covered… What about The Curator Lobster?

TCL was met in mindscape. I didn’t know his name at the time. I’d laughed in surprise when Kate, my hypnotherapist had asked what gift I held in my right hand?

Hahahaha… A lobster? Hahaha what? A rock lobster? A mobster lobster? Wtf?

Put him down… See what he does…

I watched him… Hmmm… What? A gardener? Is he snipping things… Editing and cutting away with his claws turned twin scythes? Hmmm… Digging… Burying… Hiding stuff? Finding stuff? Moving stuff?

Driving home today suddenly I know his name and game… My subconscious is not fucking me over… My subconscious has The Curator Lobster as insurance against my foibles… He’s there hiding the distractions… Clearing the clutter from my work space, collecting useful tools I’ve forgotten about… He knows every nook and cranny of my mind museum and he knows how to curate the best displays and arrangements, exhibitions of works, how to get me to put them together to make sense… He’s my internal house sprite! Is he playing me or am I playing him? Not sure… But if the game to get the D. O. Done is won, then I’m not really sure that it matters either way…

You know… If I wasn’t such a fucking procrastinor, I’d never learn anything…

6 thoughts on “House Sprites, Bending Time, and The Curator Lobster

  1. You make me smile, Karen. Not primarily for promoting Mystereum, M, though things like you have a knack for expressing things in just such a wonderfully conversational way IN context that really has a deceptive simplicity, amplifies everything.

    I smiled, also, as I read my words captioned on The Sun card and, “WHOA YES! That’s dafuqin amazing YES!. Wait, I wrote that. Wow.“ Read in: Ego in wonderful self-Check-Mate. Self-check… like IU’m going t gop through the self check-out line at the grocery store and BAM, here comes a gem. I guess forgetting really IS for getting, makes more room for the good stuff… even my own FOR me coming back TO me rather than… etc etc. Such a great smile to hear something I am of course evidently familiar with as I wrote it, though Feel it fresh and new like I am experiencing it for the 1st time. Thank you.

    And, here’s to the nutters that make the world go ‘round. Maybe WE should figure out how to make the world go ‘round, and fuq the nutters… oh wait. That would take away so me of the fun.


    Liked by 1 person

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