The case of the missing slipper

Last night I was looking forward to curling up on the couch with a David Sedaris book and eager to get cozy in my jammies and slippers. I saw one of my pink fuzzy slippers sitting in the hall between the bathroom and kitchen, but its mate was no where in sight. I found this to be rather odd, as I usually take off both slippers together, rather than taking one off... walking through the apartment before abandoning the other.

I searched for that lone slipper for several minutes before enlisting the help of the boyfriend, who helped me turn the apartment upside down. We were on a mission to find that damn thing. I was Cinderella. And my feet were cold.

Boyfriend, in the midst of cooking up a delicious dinner, had to forfeit the search because his water had come to a boil on the stove. After looking under every piece of furniture and in every conceivable hiding spot, I finally gave up. Had I accidentally thrown it away? What the duce?

This morning, I awoke from my slumber to get ready for work. Still wiping the sleep from my eyes as I stepped into the shower, I was in deep thought. "Don't forget your leftover portobello ravioli awaiting you in the fridge," I cautioned myself. "Even if it makes you a little gassy, it would make for a delicious lunch," the voice in my head continued.

It was after the shower that I saw it. Both of my slippers, lying together in a pair as though nothing had ever happened. "Oh, I guess boyfriend found my slipper?" my inner monologue rang. "But when? How? I don't understand!"

I ran to snoozing boyfriend, and gently awoke him. (Read:: shook him violently as though I had said "And this is what it would feel like to die in an earthquake!")

"HEY!" I excitedly hollered. "DID YOU FIND MY SLIPPER???"

Boyfriend gasped and quickly lifted his head, frightened.

"DID YOU FIND MY SLIPPER???"

"Huh? No!" Boyfriend was startled. But not as startled as I was.

"You didn't!? Really!? OMG! AHHHHHHHHHHHH! THAT'S CREEPY!" I was stunned, I didn't know what to do except hit groggy boyfriend over the head with my pillow several times as I screamed in horror.

As I finished getting ready for work, I kept my eye on the haunted slipper in fear that any remaining ghost particles might attack me--possibly when my mascara wand was uncomfortably close to my retina.

Before I left to catch my bus, I cautiously picked up the slipper with my thumb and index finger. I looked on the bottom of the sole for a cryptic ghost message, written in pig's blood. Nothing.

I examined the cloth for any ghost clues... and there it was. The label on my slipper sent chills down my spine. "Easy Spirit." I $h*t you not.

"Ok, I'm outta here," my inner voice proclaimed.

I grabbed my jacket and purse (but not my ravioli... dang) and ran for the hills... or bus stop.