The Supernatural Supervisor

A stay-cation, that’s what I needed. I had no money for a vacation anyway and really didn’t have the drive to pack either. I could just dial back my routine and tap back into myself; reset my mind and stop feeling like I was a pile of nondescript mush moving through life.

I spent the first few days watching TV and catching up on all those movies that people had recommended to me, I took aimless walks around my neighbourhood and actually saw a few things that I’m sure had been there the entire time I’d lived there but were new and delightful to me now. While I was on the couch my gaze wandered from the TV after a few episodes in and I started to analyze my living space. The walls that were a little too beige, the kitchen that had no character and the bathroom that looked like it was from the 90’s. I needed to do something to bring my place into this decade.

The space left me feeling claustrophobic. I needed to wake it and myself up. I was wondering if it wasn’t my job after all, perhaps it had always been walking through the door into this plain condo that I’d pretty much left as is since I’d proudly bought it with my big girl salary a few years ago.

I’d always watched a myriad of home reno shows and decided to binge watch a few of my favourites and take notes before I hit my local home décor store.  I zeroed in on backsplashes and they looked easy enough to do in the kitchen. I just needed that guck, the scraper thing, and those little pegs to fix the tile to the wall.

I grabbed my bag and went out to the store to have a look. There was actually a good selection. Did I want a sort of Spanish-style mosaic, a curly-cue design, classic subway tile or, oh, tiny hexagonal tiles? I settled on the hexagonal ones that had a sapphire blue marbled look. I grabbed the supplies I needed asked the clerk for any more advice then went home and rolled up my sleeves.

I mixed up the grout, laid everything out and grabbed the scraper and slathered the gooey grey stuff on the wall and pressed the first tile into place. I did a few more then stepped back to assess my work.

“Pretty good,” I said to myself then looked down to see my cat inspecting my work.

“What do you think, Ollie?” He looked at it and at me disinterestedly and licked his paw before he turned and left.

It was funny, I could have sworn I’d heard a “no”, but I didn’t know from where it had come from. I went back to work, paying attention to my lines as I applied the grout and tile. I still felt like I had eyes on me and turned to check to see if a little set of green eyes had come back to the kitchen.  I didn’t see Ollie, but still felt unsettled. I peeked around the corner and saw him in my armchair. He cracked his eye open at me then closed it. Strange, I still felt like I was being observed. 

The scraper fell onto the floor and my attention went back to the kitchen. Crap, now I have to clean all of this stuff off the cupboard doors and floor. I was thinking it was odd that it had fallen out of a bucket because I’d put it inside not on top and it seemed weird that it had flipped up and out on its own. I wiped up each blob of grout and turned my head towards the hallway. The hair on my arms bristled as I gazed at a quick blur of something in my periphery. I got up slowly and felt my heavy limbs finally start to move as I forced each step towards the doorway. I looked at Ollie, he was looking straight ahead eyes wide, and his pupils fully dilated. I turned my gazed down the hall and saw a figure retreating down the hall. It was dressing in a white shirt and blue pants but was slowly dissipating from view as it walked away. 

I blinked hard and with each blink it disappeared. I wondered what it had been doing. Did the disruption mean it didn’t like the change? Well, screw him or her, I was carrying on with my redecorating. They don’t call them home improvements for nothing!

“I don’t care what you think of my work. Get out of my place!” I asserted to the apparition. 

I felt like I was clarifying my actions to my mother and that started to boil my blood. My life choices didn’t affect her or that supernatural visitor. I didn’t need supervision either. I was fine to complete the project on my own. I blocked out the negative energy and went back to the tiling with more vigor and concentration.

I used the “I told you so” interaction to channel my determination into that project and the next. That week I painted the living room and the bedroom and started looking for new fixtures for the bathroom. When I returned to work the next week, I felt invigorated and despite that visit, I couldn’t wait to go home to my new and improved place.  The naysayer put more drive in me, and I was ready to tell it off if it ever felt the need to return.

I tried to think of who that visitor had been. I’d bought the place from a 50-something woman who was looking for something a little bigger, so I didn’t think she’d return if she suddenly had passed on, but maybe someone a little more subdued and crankier had owned the place when it was first built. I wondered if I should get the place saged or whatever but thought better of it since I guess my bratty “leave me alone” had done the trick. I was wondering if I was a ghost whisperer or perhaps simply going crazy but brushed that off when I realized it didn’t really matter. I was content here and finally at peace myself and I hoped he or she was too now.