Yesterday I went sort of crazy with cleaning the apartment. It was totally unintentional, too. I meant to do NOTHING yesterday. Absolutely nothing. It started out well enough. I got up relatively early, made some coffee, ate some breakfast, finished my book, and then BOOM...The Crazy kicked in.
Only not really. Really, I was just going to wash my sheets and change my bed. Easy. But once I'd stripped the bed and thrown the dirty sheets in the washer, I was out of control. I was running all over the apartment, downstairs to get the Windex, upstairs to clean my bathroom, downstairs to get the vacuum, upstairs to clean the litter box, and then suddenly I was trying my best not to fall down the stairs while I vacuumed them because did you know? Our vacuum is surprisingly heavy. And, you know, once I'd finished cleaning upstairs and vacuuming down the stairs, I figured I might as well clean the kitchen floor and take out all the trash and vacuum the downstairs and SWEEP THE PORCH. WTF? Sweep the porch? It did no good. It's just as dirty this morning as it was before I swept it, but right after? It was a thing of beauty.
Anyway, I blame this obsessive bout of cleaning on the psychological trauma I suffered Saturday night. I was sitting on the sofa, talking to Joe on the phone, when I noticed a creepy bug crawling on the wall next to me. I thought about killing it, but it was the same kind of creepy bug that attacked Heidi and I that one time and I didn't want to risk it.
SO! There I am, sitting on the sofa, watching the bug and watching PHOEBE watch the bug, and giving Joe a play-by-play (he's so lucky). I was all, "it's crawling higher...Phoebe thinks she can reach it, but she can't...now it's trying to crawl on the ceiling...now it's on the ceiling...OH MY GOD IT JUST FELL OFF THE CEILING ON THE COUCH RIGHT NEXT TO ME OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD," and this is when I ran to the bathroom to get some toilet paper to KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT but you guys! IT CRAWLED INTO THE SOFA! IN BETWEEN THE CUSHIONS! And I kept freaking out and Joe was telling me to calm down and I was yelling at home for being in San Diego and not protecting me from the KILLER BUG THAT WAS TRYING TO KILL ME, KILL ME DEAD! And then I told him I was never, ever sitting on that couch again and he laughed at me but GUESS WHAT, I did not sit on that sofa at all yesterday SO THERE.
And then Joe was not sympathetic AT ALL about my brush with death. I believe his exact words were, "I cannot believe that you, a grown woman, just had a massive meltdown because of a tiny bug," and I was all, "whatever, you didn't see it, IT WAS HUGE AND HAD FANGS!" and then he didn't believe me when I told him it was two inches long, like bugs in Ohio can't be that big or something. But they can be that big because I saw one and it crawled into the couch and again I say SO THERE.