Animals seem to hate me. No, nature, as a whole, seems to hate me. Everything from the harmless oak tree to the relentless squirrel is out to get me. Some people might label these encounters as “harmless coincidences” or “nature’s accidents”, but I call them targeted attacks. Everywhere I go, it seems as if Mother Nature is stalking my every move, plotting and waiting for the ideal time to strike again. Ever since I was an infant, nature has tried, nonstop, to drop me in situations that could only happen to me. Everything from vicious dog attacks to squirrels trying to present me with a slightly less than painful concussion. I can’t help but wonder… am I cursed? Did I do something to offset the balance of nature? Lucky me.
Squirrels are sneaky little buggers. Always hopping from tree to tree as if they are wanna-be birds. Constantly guarding their acorns as if they were rare, magical drugs used solely to help them hop from tree to tree. To some these ‘harmless’ creatures are cute and adorable, but to me they are cruel and evil animals that are out to get me.
Picture this, a young and innocent girl sitting in the car waiting for her mom to come out of the house, opening the sun roof, to get some more of the bitter, moldy fall air that everyone seems to love. A squirrel gets on to the roof of the car and starts chucking acorns through the sunroof. Each acorn lands on the girls head. That girl is me, and that is the first time nature attacked me.
A second time is when my hair got fastened into a tree. My hair was wrapped around that tree branch and tangled more than strands of Christmas lights in the beginning of December. See, I was running for one of the various sports, when all of a sudden my head was pulled back at the speed of light. I was stuck. Great. It took me at least ten minutes to unwrap every single strand of hair from the tree.
Now most people are allergic to pollen, fur, dust, or even mold. No, not me! I’m allergic to grass-especially the grass around my high school. You’d think that I would just sneeze a bit or cough, but I’m not that fortunate. I happen to get rashes that itch like poison ivy if I even do so much as look at the grass. Carrying around anti-itch ointment and always having to tell coaches you can’t do something without your special ointment is one of the most embarrassing things in the world.

None of this compares to when my house was like a shooting range for lightning bolts. My home was struck by lightning. No power for days. I just wonder if I should live in an anti-nature bubble from now one. I will always be the ideal target for Mother Nature’s grumpy days-even her happy ones. It’s times like this when I should be lucky for all of these “life experiences”, but too bad, I’m not. I’m just living everyday holding a permanent grudge against nature and its pathetic excuse of entertainment. I refuse to buy a real Christmas tree because with my luck there would be a rabid chipmunk waiting to launch itself at my head, hiding among the always shedding branches.
Why is it so hard for the environment to be nice to me? I just wish someday we can just be friends. Soon, hopefully. Preferably BEFORE I get sucked up into a tornado.