Cosmic Conspiracy

I think I was born into the wrong family.

It’s nothing against my relatives. Really. They’re great. I love them. However, I just think that I was meant for something else. Something different than this.

I think when I was born, some papers got mixed up. Maybe a baby-switch scandal. Maybe I’m really adopted and no one’s told me. I guess looking exactly like my father proves these theories wrong.

Maybe the Fertility God’s decided to play a joke. Maybe they were bored one day floating around in the universe and thought this would be really funny. Bad joke, perhaps? Little did they know that I would eventually catch on. That I would discover their cosmic conspiracy.

I think I was meant to be Royalty.

I spent the afternoon at the day spa. Let me say that again: the DAY SPA. There I was being pampered and fussed over… and loving every minute of it. I soaked it up. I think I was meant to be incredibly wealthy, have servants, a masseuse, a chef and a driver. They would all be paid an insane amount of money to make me feel like the princess that I know I am. Of course I can’t forget the cabana boy. He’s very important to my overall well being.

I don’t consider myself a high maintenance gal. I don’t require attention 24/7 from the people in my life. I’m easy to please. But I feel that what I experienced today should be experienced on a regular basis. Like every week would be grrrrreat.

I felt this conviction even stronger when I got home.

When I got home from the day spa, I was all noodley and relaxed and had this calm euphoric feeling. I was looking forward to chillin’ out… maybe watch a little television… maybe take a nap. I was all about anything that wouldn’t exhort energy. I wanted to bask in my royalty-ness.

When I walked through my front door, my house was hot. Not cool. Hot. This is not good for a princess. Princesses require air conditioning. I don’t know anything about air conditioning, so I did what every unknowledgeable princess would do… I went outside and stood there staring at the unit. I guess I assumed that it would tell me what was wrong. Other things do. My printer tells me when it’s out of paper or ink. When my car is low on oil, a cute little light that says “low oil” blinks. When I’m low on gas, it even sings to me. This big metal thing-a-ma-jig in my backyard was saying notta.

This was bad news for the refreshed princess. Luckily I was able to contact my landlord. She said that she would try to get someone over. Try? I didn’t want to play my Royalty card to heavily, but I explained to her that it was FREAKIN HOT and that it would be swell if I could have some assistance. It was 95 degrees and I was inside my house sweating. A sweating princess is not a happy princess.

Long story short, a nice man came over and fixed it. He was very efficient. I bet he realized that he was dealing with a future queen.

I wish other people in my life were as observant.