Femme Fairy Godmother

The FemmeFairyGodmother has a confession.

I am terrified of bats. Terrified. Not “Oh, those things are icky” but T-E-R-R-I-F-I-E-D. As in on the sofa, covered with a blanket, CANNOT move, sort of terrified.

Guess what showed up at my house tonight?

Yes. A freaking bat.

I wish I could tell you that I sucked it up and dealt with it like the strong, competent woman I (normally) am but that would be a lie. I snatched a blanket off the back of the sofa, covered myself with it and, from under the blanket, commenced calling every single person I know who might be able to come and deal with the bat. And a couple who lived entirely too far away to do a damned thing about the bat. Of course, not a one of the local somebodies was at home. Or at least answering their phones at 11:15 pm on a school night.

At my house tonight, there was, I’m sorry to say, screaming. Shrieks. General carryings on. It’s a phobia, thus irrational.

Eventually, after I saw it fly into the other room, I got up, opened my porch door, opened the door to the porch, turned on the porch light, turned off my living room light and flung myself back on the couch. I screamed a few more times as the bat flew around before it decided outside was a much nicer place to be and flew outside. I closed and locked that door so fast it isn’t even funny.

The Chihuahua? Didn’t even wake up.

This isn’t the first time I’ve had bats in my house. The difference is that both of the other times, there was someone else to deal with the bat.

There are a number of bat-like things that a single person has to deal with all on her own. If you’re newly single, it can be a challenge.

Not long after I became single again and started living by myself – after damned near 8 years of being in a relationship – we had a very bad storm here. About half of the two acres of trees on our property wound up on the roof. The other half wound up damaging the foundation of the house. I only exaggerate slightly.

Guess who had to deal with that? It wasn’t The Ex, who was safely in Oregon. Nope. It was me. Luckily, all I really had to do was call people to come and take care of it but I had NO IDEA where to begin. That would have been The Ex’s job, not mine. Dinner party for 6 in half an hour? I’m your woman. Tree on the roof? Not so much. But I did. The roof got fixed, the bathroom skylight got fixed, the foundation got fixed. All was well.

Before you can be happily partnered, you must be happily single. Before you can be happily single, you may have to confront a bat or two. Whatever your version of a bat is. But you can do it. You don’t have to do it alone. You can call everyone in your telephone, you can huddle under a blanket on the sofa, screaming, nearly paralyzed with fear. Eventually, though, you will get up and do something. It doesn’t have to be the perfect thing but you will do something. The next time it gets easier and then the next time it gets still easier. You may never *like* dealing with the bats, but you’ll figure out something to do that involves (at least a little) less screaming.

What are your bats? What do you need to confront? What scares you witless? Probably the best thing is to figure out what you might be afraid of and how you can deal with it. That is, figure it out before it happens.

Tomorrow, I’m gonna get online and find out what to do to keep bats out of your house. Oh, and also? I’m probably gonna make some cookies for the police at the station across the street from me. Just to get on their good side. You know. In case I have to call them to deal with a bat.