I haven't been sleeping well this week. Between the pressure of finishing the second 50 Shades book, not being able to shut my mind down about what to wear to work and how to save whales from plastic bags and then having weird dreams, it's been exhausting.
Last night as I was laying in bed staring at the ceiling waiting for Will to finish reading, I noticed a fly buzzing around. Now, we live in a cabin that has a loft type bedroom. The ceiling is vaulted, and so our bed is up against the wall where it meets the ceiling and starts to slope up. Right above my head is where this fly was buzzing frantically back and forth. What the hell? I had told Will to kill this damn fly the night before, but he wouldn't take me seriously because it wasn't a spider situation. If it had been a spider, he would have immediately gotten up and killed it. He would have no choice, I would scream and act like a sissy until he disposed of it. This was his part in our marriage vows and he cannot go back on it. But he didn't. He seems unaffected by flies. Two nights ago, there was a fly laying on it's back on the bed right next to my pillow with his little fly legs sticking up. He was deader than dead. I sure am glad my bed was where he decided to call it quits. Bastard. Anyway, so I'm thinking this fly is seeking vengeance for disturbing his friends resting place. Never mind it is probably just a distant cousin or friend of a friend, that doesn't matter. What matters is, I'm in his dead friends grave and he is pissed. This is my theory, anyhow.
I asked Will to take care of this Arnold Swartzenfly threatening to dive bomb me, but again, he ignored my plea for help. He didn't feel the situation merited him getting fly guts on his book. Truth of the matter is, he probably didn't have his A-game going on and was worried he couldn't catch him. If it doesn't involve a gun, he isn't interested, I guess. Will assured me the fly would simmer down once we turned the lights off. Well, to my dismay, it simmered down alright. I think the little bastard had a heart attack because he dropped from the ceiling onto my face. I have sleep apnea, so I wear a mask. I heard the damn thing hit my mask and then it fell somewhere right next to my face. I'm completely grossed out. Will is oblivious. He's half asleep. I'm flailing around in the bed trying to find this little asshole in the pitch dark and Will is starting to snore. This was an emergency on my part and my husband went to sleep! I didn't want fly guts on my face. I didn't want to wake up with a fly stuck to my arm. I didn't want it crawling it's way into my belly button if it wasn't all the way dead...or crawling in any other crevices. I needed a fly extraction - STAT!
After a lot of flailing, sheet flipping and running my hands on the sheets, I assessed that the fly was gone. All I could think at this point was, "Great, now it is probably on the floor and when I get up to pee at 3AM, it's going to squish in between my toes." Now I'm scared to get out of bed. What if I pee the bed because of the impending fly guts? This is a lot of anxiety, folks.
So, really, when you think about it, it is only natural that I had a dream that some bloody killer guy was chasing Julia Roberts around her house and then finally captured her and buried her in her yard. I mean, makes sense, right?
I saw a moth up there last night too. I hope it keeps it's distance.
Last night as I was laying in bed staring at the ceiling waiting for Will to finish reading, I noticed a fly buzzing around. Now, we live in a cabin that has a loft type bedroom. The ceiling is vaulted, and so our bed is up against the wall where it meets the ceiling and starts to slope up. Right above my head is where this fly was buzzing frantically back and forth. What the hell? I had told Will to kill this damn fly the night before, but he wouldn't take me seriously because it wasn't a spider situation. If it had been a spider, he would have immediately gotten up and killed it. He would have no choice, I would scream and act like a sissy until he disposed of it. This was his part in our marriage vows and he cannot go back on it. But he didn't. He seems unaffected by flies. Two nights ago, there was a fly laying on it's back on the bed right next to my pillow with his little fly legs sticking up. He was deader than dead. I sure am glad my bed was where he decided to call it quits. Bastard. Anyway, so I'm thinking this fly is seeking vengeance for disturbing his friends resting place. Never mind it is probably just a distant cousin or friend of a friend, that doesn't matter. What matters is, I'm in his dead friends grave and he is pissed. This is my theory, anyhow.
I asked Will to take care of this Arnold Swartzenfly threatening to dive bomb me, but again, he ignored my plea for help. He didn't feel the situation merited him getting fly guts on his book. Truth of the matter is, he probably didn't have his A-game going on and was worried he couldn't catch him. If it doesn't involve a gun, he isn't interested, I guess. Will assured me the fly would simmer down once we turned the lights off. Well, to my dismay, it simmered down alright. I think the little bastard had a heart attack because he dropped from the ceiling onto my face. I have sleep apnea, so I wear a mask. I heard the damn thing hit my mask and then it fell somewhere right next to my face. I'm completely grossed out. Will is oblivious. He's half asleep. I'm flailing around in the bed trying to find this little asshole in the pitch dark and Will is starting to snore. This was an emergency on my part and my husband went to sleep! I didn't want fly guts on my face. I didn't want to wake up with a fly stuck to my arm. I didn't want it crawling it's way into my belly button if it wasn't all the way dead...or crawling in any other crevices. I needed a fly extraction - STAT!
After a lot of flailing, sheet flipping and running my hands on the sheets, I assessed that the fly was gone. All I could think at this point was, "Great, now it is probably on the floor and when I get up to pee at 3AM, it's going to squish in between my toes." Now I'm scared to get out of bed. What if I pee the bed because of the impending fly guts? This is a lot of anxiety, folks.
So, really, when you think about it, it is only natural that I had a dream that some bloody killer guy was chasing Julia Roberts around her house and then finally captured her and buried her in her yard. I mean, makes sense, right?
I saw a moth up there last night too. I hope it keeps it's distance.
No comments:
Post a Comment