I can never go into my bedroom again.
Might be I can never even go into the house again, but we’ll have to see about that.
You know I have this thing about minding my own business—unless someone else’s business is Interesting (which—truth be told—doesn’t happen all that often).
So there I was, in our bedroom, minding my own business (and by “minding my own business” I mean quietly putting on makeup and contemplating the day ahead) when Out Of Nowhere appeared a bug. I screeched.
I think you know my theory about wildlife: It belongs in the wild. My house is most certainly not The Wild (although there are people who claim that by harboring Dust Dragons and other Chaos I do not exactly have the calmest of homes).
I think you also know my theory about legs: Four or fewer legs is just dandy. More than that is EEEEEEEEEEK! and SOMEONE DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS SITUATION!!!!!
I do not like bugs in general.
And this one had more than the usual allotment of legs.
Far, far, far.
And let me tell you, that sucker knows how to use those little legs. It is one fast horrid little creature.
Oh, you noticed I didn’t use the past tense? That’s the problem.
As I reached for something (other than the mascara I was holding) to deal a death blow, that bug scooted.
Not only did it scoot, it scooted INTO MY NIGHTSTAND DRAWER!
I screeched (for the second time) but apparently multi-legged evilness is deaf, or perhaps it was running away from the screech. I don’t know much (and by “much” I mean anything) about bug audiology. What I do know is that the damn thing was spotted going into the nightstand drawer and has not been spotted coming out of said drawer.
I’ll be sleeping on the couch. Or possibly in the next county.