If I ever find myself stuck between this world and the next—haunting the halls of my old house like some leftover casserole nobody wants—I won’t be doing the usual ghost stuff. Nope. No chains rattling, no cold spots, no whispering your name from the closet.
I’d be leaving notes.
Creepy, confusing, sometimes helpful notes. Because even in the afterlife, I’d still be a little passive-aggressive and a lot sarcastic. And believe me, my Southern spirit would have plenty to say.
“Microwave’s Not a Crime Scene, Clean It”
Let’s start with the kitchen. If I’m watching you reheat pizza for the third time this week and still not wiping the damn microwave down, you’re getting a note. Probably written in ketchup if I’m feeling theatrical.
Sticky note on the microwave:
“Your ancestors did not survive plagues and famine for you to leave spaghetti splatter on this appliance. Clean it.”
“You Left the Dryer Door Open Again. What Are We—Animals?”
Laundry rooms are underrated haunting spots. So much energy, so much neglect. If you keep forgetting your wet laundry for days at a time, I’m absolutely haunting you with mildew smell and a blunt reminder.
Taped to the wall above the dryer:
“The mold thanks you. And so does the colony of socks you’re singlehandedly growing behind the machine.”
“Don’t Look Under the Bed. I Mean It.”
Now I wouldn’t be a good ghost if I didn’t mess with you just a little. This one’s simple: write it on an index card, slide it halfway out from under the bed.
The note says:
“If you’re reading this, it’s already too late. (Just kidding. Probably.)”
Cue the paranoia. You’ll be sleeping with the lights on for a week.
“This House Ain’t Big Enough for Two Alpha Females”
Let’s say someone new moves in and tries to rearrange my cabinets. No ma’am. You think just ‘cause I’m dead I’m gonna let you put the cereal above the fridge? Think again.
Note inside the cabinet:
“This is not how I labeled these in 1989, and I will rearrange them every night until you learn.”
Bonus points if she starts blaming the kids.
“Did You Hear That? Neither Did I. That’s the Point.”
Oh, now we’re getting spooky. A well-placed note in the bathroom, when the mirror is just a little fogged up, that’s prime ghost territory. Leave it on the edge of the sink.
Note reads:
“You’ll only hear the sound once. But it’s not random. It’s a countdown.”
You’ll have folks questioning every creak and pipe pop for months.
“You Forgot to Lock the Back Door Again…”
Sometimes, being a ghost means you’ve got to look out for the living. Especially down here, where folks will leave the back door wide open like we ain’t got serial killers and raccoons both trying to get in.
Post-it by the back door:
“Lock it. Or I’ll start whispering your full name at 3:07 AM until you do.”
Now that is discipline from beyond the grave.
“That’s Not Where the Remote Goes.”
Last but not least, the living room. The heart of the home—and the easiest place to drive someone nuts.
Note on the coffee table:
“I know you had the remote last. Put it back before I start hiding it in the fridge.”
Just a lil ghostly mischief to keep things spicy.
Haunting With a Personal Touch
If I were a ghost, you best believe I’d make the afterlife entertaining—for both of us. I wouldn’t need no Ouija board to communicate. Just some sticky notes, a Sharpie, and that timeless Southern flair for keeping folks in line with a smile and a threat.
And hey, if you start finding weird little notes in your house… it might be me. Especially if they’re written in cursive and smell faintly of sunflowers.
Lisa Crow contributed to this article. She is a true crime junkie and lifestyle blogger based in Waco, Texas. Lisa is the Head of Content at Gigi’s Ramblings and Southern Bred Crime Junkie. She spends her free time traveling when she can and making memories with her large family which consists of six children and fifteen grandchildren.