Last night I dreamt of bugs covering the bedspread in a churning sheet of black. I swiped my arms out at it in the dark to try and clear the specks off of me to no avail. They're everywhere. They're on the clothes that I have to shake off twice before putting on. Once the inside, once the outside. Noone likes bugs in the crotch. Oh my! How unladylike. I've been vaccuming them up. Washing them down sink drains. Dropping them down the beerbottles of Warsteiner Premium Dunkel that occassionally find their ways into my hands in moments of awesome boredom. And still they persist.
To my utmost annoyance.
Logic would have it that you don't smash open the ceiling when you've got 8 people under one roof. Especially if you're well aware that an army of gross winged but incapable of flight crawlies will be unleashed like a plague upon them.
But at least with these little critters I am learning to tolerate bugs. At least these don't bite, just crawl half ass at you and then twitch around when you pick em up. I am by far superior to the other girl children in that I don't squeemishly run away from that room. I bravely face nights asleep amidst all that chaos. And I pride myself on that. 21 and I ain't afraid of no (not capable of flying thank goodness! but equipped with wings) ants. Fuck yes!
2 more sleeps and then a bus sleep and then I'll have a warm body to smother with affection once more. Can't wait.