I Might Be A Deity. You Don’t Know

I mean, probably not, for sure. It is nearly impossible that I am a god.

Which reminds me of my friend at work who retired recently. We sat in cubicles next to each other for 7 years. I love her. And she left me. I’m not coping with her retirement extremely well. But you know, I am happy for her. Mostly.

But I digress.

So, one day, after having solved a difficult programming issue, I stood up from my desk and raised my fists over my head.

Me: I am like a god.

Work friend: You work in a cubicle.

Me: So?

WF: A cockroach ran across your desk last week.

Me: I’m a lesser god.

But this isn’t about that, so I am digressing again. I guess it’s a digressing sort of morning.

So, I might be a deity because there are constellations on my bathroom ceiling.

I think I might have a little universe existing in my bathroom.

Let me explain.

I took Friday off because I could. I’m finding it harder and harder to find my motivation to sit in a cubicle all day long. I think my motivation must be chained to a rock somewhere.

I spent my long weekend deep cleaning my house. I found it terribly satisfying. My back, which betrays me, didn’t like the work and, therefore, I am doing very little today. Watching TV. Puttering. Nothing too strenuous.

I decided to take a long, hot bath to appease the gods of old lady backaches in my nice clean tub that had been detailed the day before.

I got the Epsom salts and fancy seaweed bath stuff and made the water as hot as I can stand it.

I got in my tub and stared at the ceiling.

Holy shit, y’all. The ceiling looks bad.


If turning over and staring at the bottom of my nice clean tub was an option, I would have done that. But I don’t have gills and I can’t hold my breath for very long.

The ventilation in our bathroom is terrible. There is a fan, but I don’t think it ventilates anything. I think the fan just makes fan noises.

So, the ceiling gets mold on it.

I try to keep on top of it, but I have to drag in the stepladder, find the goddamn Magic Erasers which are never where I think they are, and erase the mold. Ceiling cleaning always gets away from me and I end up repainting.

It is way past time for that.

It occurred to me how some of the mold seemed to be in very specific patterns. And how they look like constellations. Moldy little constellations in a Moldyverse. On my ceiling.


I laid there in my tub, covered in salty, seaweed water and realized I was the god staring upon the moldyverse. I could leave them be, clean them up, paint, or erase them completely.

I decided that before I obliterate the moldyverse, I should at least name the constellations.

There’s not a lot of light pollution in my bathroom, so they’re super visible.

Moldona Sporealis The crowning glory of the mold constellation. It is so pervasive and intricate that it can only be one of many. Moldona Sporealis is one layer in a multimoldyverse.

Messiopea Would love to have a nice, clean house, but cannot because her will to clean was left chained to a rock with no hope of rescue.

The Little Blob Is a dog wearing a skirt and standing on its hind legs with its mouth wide open. A treat is flying into it’s opened mouth. I think it’s a male dog. I have no idea why. 

The Big Blob is a young girl with pigtails sliding across the moldyverse, smearing something behind her. Dirt? Shit? No idea. Something mold colored. She is also tossing the dog treat into the Little Blob’s mouth.

Orion’s Fungus Orion prefers to not focus on his fungus. He’d prefer we all focus on his belt.

Dog Breath Major follows Orion’s fungus in the hopes of eating fungus.

Dog Breath Minor follows Dog Breath Major in the hopes of eating leftover fungus or maybe vomit.

The Sea of Futility lives above the bathtub and shower and is a series of small cracks in the paint. The Sea of Futility pisses me off. The last time I painted it, I used oil based Kilz. It shouldn’t crack. I should be able to clean it up easier. But noooo…now I have to paint my bathroom ceiling. Again. The third time in four years. Maybe if I sacrifice a goat or something?

So, long story short. I had a great 3 days off from work.

My baseboards sparkle and my bathroom ceiling is disgusting.

Is there a magic paint? Is there? Because I need one. I’m ready to be the destroyer of the Moldyverse.

Don’t worry though, there are tons of versions of me in the Multimoldyverse who have no intent to destroy Moldyverses, so they do live on. Somewhere. Where I’m even worse at housecleaning that I am in this universe.


Photo courtesy of Suzy Hazelwood




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  • Oh no – please don’t make me look up! I don’t want to know that I’m just another speck in my own moldymultiverse!

  • Our mildewverse, a subsection of the moldyverse is in the bottom of the closet, because some water came up through the floor last winter when it rained five inches in twelve hours. Briana saved my laptop case from its clutches, but her sneakers may or may not survive.
    Your story reminds me a little of the ceiling in our four foot high “loft” that we painted with fluorescent paints and filled the negative space with Prussian blue. Turns out that the position you have to hold to paint on the ceiling that’s right above your head while you’re sitting will cause back pain. I’m told that the remodelers pulled that ceiling out of there and saved it after we left, but what became of it I do not know.

    • I wish I could see that. I love color.

      I’m getting ready to embark on a new color in our bedroom and I can’t wait to see how it turns out!

      Also? When I first typed this I said “your’ bedroom instead of “our” bedroom, which would have made my response really odd.

  • The Moldyverse doesn’t sound so bad. I mean, I think the health risks of household mold may be exaggerated, and, hey, penicillin is a mold, so there may even be some advantages to it. Especially if no one else sees it. And if they do see if I’m pretty sure your friends are the nonjudgmental types who also have mold on their bathroom ceilings. I know I am, but don’t tell my wife I said that.
    But the important thing is you rule your corner of the Moldyverse.

    • They work like a goddamn charm. Seriously, they clean up nearly anything. I love them. They’re a little flimsy though. Also, I get them damp before I use them. (that’s what she said)

  • You’re like that Hindu god, Shiva, both creator and destroyer…only you shall be called, She Who Shall Be Named, GODDESS MOLDYVORT (that’s kind of like Voldemort but flipped around), destroyer of mold and mildew with your fancy magic eraser! Lol. Mona

By Michelle

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