fidget monster

Perhaps it’s because I have a snatchkee in a jar, a sneezle locked in the bathroom, a fretopus lodged in my throat and a furballoid running amok somewhere in my house, that I am having trouble concentrating today. My inability to concentrate became especially acute at work, during the afternoon budget meeting. I was terribly distracted and could not sit still for a second. Like a small child in church, I twitched, squirmed and fidgeted, while my boss and co-workers eyed me suspiciously… and really, who could blame them? I must have looked foolish.

I would have continued to blame my fidgety affliction on the stress of last week’s, monster-related events, had I not seen with my own eyes the true culprit. While I jerked, writhed, fiddled and pretended to take down notes, I noticed from the corner of my eye, in the mirror hanging on the wall near my desk, the unsettling shape of a figetus squirmelis, bouncing like a spring, on top of my head.

Oddly, no one else seemed to notice the creature tormenting me, only the effects . So during a lull in the conversation, I seized the moment. Excusing myself from the meeting, I raced out the door and bounded down the stairs to the parking garage. I scrambled to my car, squirmelis in tow and clumsily opened the door. Somehow, I was able to flick the agitated fidget monster from my head and into the back seat and slammed the door.

“Hooo boy,” I thought to myself, “the drive home is going to be interesting. I hope figetus squirmelises like listening to NPR.”