An Unexpectedly Death-focused Entry
I'm afraid to go to sleep.
Not because of the boogeyman or monsters under my bed. Not because I'm afraid of nightmares or robbers or rapists or anything like that. No. This is something far, far worse. Something that could strangle the very life out of me and leave me for dead. That kind of fear.
It's a wasp.
Around 8:30 P.M. this evening, I was reading Watchmen when something caught my peripheral vision attention. I turned. Looked. Nothing. Wait! Looked again! BEE!!!
I sat there, conflicted, wanting to finish one of the climactic chapters, trying to figure out how I would deal with the situation. Hm. 13'x15' room (or something like that) containing me, my stuff, and said bee. It was bumping against the light, then flew up into the window where I can't reach or see it. I ignored the problem for thirty minutes. Finished the chapter. Then began to freak out. How was I going to solve this problem? What could I do?
I called my mom. Talked with her about it. Whine/freak out/all of that. Then I asked how she was doing, and she told me that Grandpa C (my aunt's father-in-law, my uncle's dad) died this afternoon. I'm a jackass and felt foolish for having a bee problem. I was even too ashamed of myself to say anything like "give Scott and Mary Anne and my cousins my love" or "I'm so sorry." It felt like fake things to say, even though I sincerely mean them. I just went quiet and said, "Oh, Mom." again and again. And now here I am still talking about myself rather than the now passed grandfather of people I love. And I feel like a jackass.
...
Suddenly I don't feel anymore like relating my silly wasp story. I'll just leave it at this: called Morgan and Dad and whined to them as well, they just laughed, no help, but nice to talk to them and hope they're having a good time together, borrowed hairspray from Kayley to spray the wasp so it's wings will go sticky and disable its ability to fly, kept door propped open and sat around waiting for it to come out for four hours, saw wasp only once but it flew back up into the window before I could spray it down, haven't seen it since, and it may very well still be up there, waiting to kill me in my sleep.
This may be my final entry. Goodbye sweet, sweet world.
And I still feel like a jackass.
Not because of the boogeyman or monsters under my bed. Not because I'm afraid of nightmares or robbers or rapists or anything like that. No. This is something far, far worse. Something that could strangle the very life out of me and leave me for dead. That kind of fear.
It's a wasp.
Around 8:30 P.M. this evening, I was reading Watchmen when something caught my peripheral vision attention. I turned. Looked. Nothing. Wait! Looked again! BEE!!!
I sat there, conflicted, wanting to finish one of the climactic chapters, trying to figure out how I would deal with the situation. Hm. 13'x15' room (or something like that) containing me, my stuff, and said bee. It was bumping against the light, then flew up into the window where I can't reach or see it. I ignored the problem for thirty minutes. Finished the chapter. Then began to freak out. How was I going to solve this problem? What could I do?
I called my mom. Talked with her about it. Whine/freak out/all of that. Then I asked how she was doing, and she told me that Grandpa C (my aunt's father-in-law, my uncle's dad) died this afternoon. I'm a jackass and felt foolish for having a bee problem. I was even too ashamed of myself to say anything like "give Scott and Mary Anne and my cousins my love" or "I'm so sorry." It felt like fake things to say, even though I sincerely mean them. I just went quiet and said, "Oh, Mom." again and again. And now here I am still talking about myself rather than the now passed grandfather of people I love. And I feel like a jackass.
...
Suddenly I don't feel anymore like relating my silly wasp story. I'll just leave it at this: called Morgan and Dad and whined to them as well, they just laughed, no help, but nice to talk to them and hope they're having a good time together, borrowed hairspray from Kayley to spray the wasp so it's wings will go sticky and disable its ability to fly, kept door propped open and sat around waiting for it to come out for four hours, saw wasp only once but it flew back up into the window before I could spray it down, haven't seen it since, and it may very well still be up there, waiting to kill me in my sleep.
This may be my final entry. Goodbye sweet, sweet world.
And I still feel like a jackass.