I was taking a bath – all stories about Elder Gods should begin in a maddening, circuitous fashion, so you’ll just have to bear with me – anyway, I wasn’t a fan of baths for most of my life, as I found them time-consuming and boring, but after spraining my ankle, I started soaking with epsom salt, bringing books to read, and found that baths weren’t such a bad thing after all.
Now I’ve discovered I like them. They really are relaxing and soothing, and my children have to resolve their own problems without me, because clearly I’m not getting out of the bath just to mediate a fight or determine which person’s turn it is to use which gaming system.
Today I was reading more in Neil Gaiman’s the view from the cheap seats, a collection of his essays – yes, I’m getting to the elder god bit, bear with me – it had gone missing for a while but I rediscovered it while packing. Generally speaking, I’m rather incurious about the authors I read, even if I’m a fan of their work and regularly seek their books out. Probably because I don’t want to discover that my idols have clay feet.
Gaiman was one of those authors, but reading through these essays has made me fall in love with him – platonically, he’s not my type otherwise – and fall in love with the idea of being part of a broad community of writers and artists that I can genuinely call friends, and of holing up in a house in Iceland for a month to finish a book, and really I both love and hate Gaiman now, because I’m wildly jealous.
After setting the book aside, I commenced shaving my legs, which is a rather tedious chore but seems less tedious when it’s handled as part of a soak. I had just started in on my right thigh when I looked down and saw a face looking back at me – bulbous head, two large, sunken eyes, a hole where the nose should be and three lengthy tentacles in place of a jaw.
All of those people that see Jesus on toast or Mary in windows have got nothing on me, because I’ve seen C’thulu in shaving cream!
Thank god I joined the 21st century, because I was able to grab my phone and take a photo – my first photo I’ve taken on my phone – for photographic evidence that the Elder Gods have blessed me. I won’t be gauche and show it here – well, truthfully, I would, but I still have to figure out how to get the photo from my phone to my laptop (don’t judge, okay? It’s not safe to judge a high priestess of the Elder Gods!)
If you’ve ever wanted to help birth an elder god into this dimension, or hunt down the too-curious stranger for a blood sacrifice, or spend your time skulking around looking generally creepy and deviant, please consider applying to be my acolyte for when my temple is finished and I begin ushering in the apocalypse!
If you have any experience with non-Euclidian geometry and design, feel free to submit a design for the temple, but if your plans fail to be satisfying you may find that your soul has been shunted into a different dimension.
It is so nice to finally know my purpose in life! All hail me, High Priestess of the Impending Apocalypse!