I think I'm being abducted by Aliens!!!

There was Heat, Missing Days and the Aliens Who Couldn’t Handle Earth’s Thermostat

By now, I had accepted that my house was the intergalactic equivalent of a bad Airbnb. Every few nights, I dreamed (or imagined) that the same trio of handsome extraterrestrials would show up, sweating through their silver suits and arguing about the heat and unreliable air conditioning.

“Why does your planet boil?” one groaned.

“It’s called summer,” I said. “You abducted me in August. Rookie mistake.”

Another one was fanning himself with an empty pizza box. He may have been hot, and 'hot', but he still found the time to order pizza. Luckily there was delivery service...otherwise how would he have explained his presence on earth. It seems earth attracts everyone with it's love of pizza.

The aliens were hopeless. Their UFO’s cooling system kept shorting out because they’d tried to plug it into an incompatible earthly power outlet. The craft now hummed like a hair dryer and smelled faintly of burnt popcorn.

These guys just seemed to enjoy earth's fast food just a little bit too much.

Every time they tried to beam their ship up, the heat warped the tractor beam. Once, it accidentally abducted my garden gnome instead of me. Another time, it lifted my neighbor’s inflatable flamingo, which the aliens mistook for a real bird and were puzzled when it wouldn't turn into nuggets.

They started keeping a “Missing Days Log” — a glittery notebook labeled “Oops, We Did It Again.”
Inside were entries like:

• Tuesday: abducted wrong human. Returned promptly.

• Thursday: melted navigation panel. Blamed humidity.

• Saturday: abductee refused to leave air-conditioned room.

I began charging them rent.
They paid in cosmic snacks that tasted like spicy marshmallows and evaporated if you laughed too hard.

Eventually, the heatwave broke. The aliens threw a farewell barbecue — which ended when one of them mistook the grill for a teleportation pad and sent all the hot dogs to Jupiter.

I waved as their saucer sputtered into the sky, leaving behind a faint smell of sunscreen and deja vu.
I checked my calendar.
Every day was back in place.
Except Wednesday.
But honestly, I didn’t miss it.

The heat had only given us a short reprieve. It returned in all of its fury the next day.

..........................................

Heat. Missing Days, and Extremely Unprofessional Aliens may be strange symptoms of my dream state heat overload.

I woke up today and it should have been Saturday...but it was Sunday evening. So, where did Friday afternoon and Saturday go...

Maybe the heat had addled my brain. Lately I've been waking up in a sort of comedic cosmic misadventure.

On the hottest week the city had seen since the invention of thermometers, I began losing days the way other people lose socks in the dryer. Monday vanished. Thursday slipped out the back door. A whole Saturday dissolved like sugar in tea.

Naturally, I blamed the heat. Until the bold aliens started leaving clues.

First, there was the scorch mark on the porch shaped suspiciously like a left-handed footprint. Then the strange heat induced humming noise that sounded exactly like a ticked off cat trying to beatbox. And finally — the glitter. Not human glitter. Cosmic glitter. The kind that refuses to wash off no matter how many showers you take, because the continuous murderous days had changed the molecular structure of everything.

That’s when I realized:
Aliens.
Ones with terrible sense of humor were really messing with my days.

Not the sleek, silver-suited, galaxy‑conquering kind. No — these were the bargain‑bin abductors. The interns of the cosmos. The ones who probably failed their abduction certification exam three times but still didn't learn how to work the memory‑wipe machine properly.

They kept showing up at the wrong time of day. But I was not remembering. I just started noticing that I was in the wrong days.
I kept forgetting my own script....It was just too hot to think clearly. But then I began remembering snippets of one of them insisted on calling Earth “The Spicy Planet.” On account of the heat making their ship warp.

Another memory showed them trying to beam me up, but the heat interfered. The tractor beam would melt halfway, sputter, and drop me gently back onto my couch — which explained why I kept waking up with my shoes still on and the remote still in my hand.

The aliens must have been as frustrated as I was annoyed.
Still, the heat remained undefeated.

Finally, during one particularly molten afternoon, I caught them in the act: three glowing beings standing at the window, arguing over a manual titled “Abduction for Beginners: Please Stop Losing Your Humans.”

They looked up and saw me.

They froze. One placed a finger on his lips, entreating me to silence. But he need not have worried...I was petrified.
I froze.
The air conditioner sighed dramatically and finally gave up the ghost, the heat emanating from their suits shorted everything out.

One alien gestured towards the three fans placed strategically around the room. He did an impressive imitation of some of Samantha's magical nose-twitching from the old show Bewitched... his nose wiggling in laugh out loud comical motions.

All three fans started to whirr, groaning mightily, before settling in to distribute warm hopeful heat.

One alien cleared his throat.
“Uh… we think we misplaced your Wednesday.”

Another held out a small molten, dripping device.
“We tried to return Friday, but it melted.”

I tried my best not to laugh...or to appear sweat‑glazed and unimpressed, finally finding the bravado to cross my arms.
“If you’re going to abduct me and my days, at least be good at it.”

The aliens looked at each other, various emotions crossing their handsome faces... they were alternately impressed, ashamed, amused and just a little bit smug.
Then they nodded, saluted, and promised to enroll in remedial abduction classes.

I am still nor sure if they are real...

But still, the missing days have not stopped.

I try to stay awake long enough to catch the aliens, or at least find other reasons besides heat stroke and alien abductions to explain why days are suddenly not cooperating with the calendar.

The heat, however, is not helping my brain to see reason.

..............................................

Note:

Real missing time in everyday life usually comes from stress, exhaustion, or just the strange way memory works.