Don’t hurt that bat, Creed! It’s a living thing with feelings and a family!

Last night, after a lovely (but spicy) dinner at Chipotle, I came home and decided to write articles for the rest of the evening. Then I looked at my bed and thought, "I should change my sheets." And then changing my sheets led to starting some laundry and that led to putting my pajamas on (I don't know) and THAT led to watching TV with Heidi. I don't know how these things happen, they just do. After TV, I was all, "I'm going to go to my room," and that's when I saw IT. On the wall, right outside my bedroom door. A giant bug that had a million legs. A MILLION.

Now. I'm OK with most bugs. I usually let spiders live if I see one in the apartment (because spiders eat bugs) and if I see any other bugs, I smoosh the crap out of them with a tissue. And then I flush them down the toilet just in case they're zombie bugs and they're going to come back to life. One time, at my old apartment, Phoebe killed a cricket (while I freaked out and cowered on the couch . . . from a cricket . . . not my proudest moment) and I ran it down the garbage disposal.

But, you guys? This bug was monstrous and creepy. Did I mention all the legs? Bugs with millions of legs freak me out. OK, Google tells me that this bug was a common house centipede, but WHATEVER, Google, you didn't see it! Ahem. So, I clutched the wall and stared at the bug and said, "Heidi! COME HERE THERE'S A BUG OH MY GOD," and she was all, "OH MY GOD WHAT IS IT?" and I was like, "I DON'T KNOW I NEED A SHOE GIVE ME A SHOE SO I CAN SMASH IT!" and she was like, "We need a stick! A long stick!" and I was all, "that's what she said!" only not really, really I said, "GET. ME. A. SHOE!" Because I couldn't go in my ROOM to get one of MY shoes because THE BUG WAS RIGHT NEXT TO MY DOOR AND WHAT IF IT ATTACKED ME AS I WALKED BY AHHHHH!

So, Heidi picked up one of her (brand new) running shoes. I said, "Are you sure you don't want me to use an old shoe?" She looked at the shoe and then looked at me and then looked back at the shoe and said, "I'll get an old shoe." She gave me an old ballet flat, when what I really wanted was a giant combat boot. Something with some weight to it, you know? But I took the ballet flat and I crouched next to the bug.

Me: Oh my god.
Heidi: Smash it!
Me: Oh my god oh my god oh my god.
Heidi: Do you want me to do it?
Me: No . . . I'll do it.

And then I SMASHED the shoe into the wall! And missed! And the bug ran behind the hallway mirror!

[cue loud, girlish screaming]

Me: I MISSED!
Heidi: WHERE IS IT? IS IT ON THE SHOE? IT'S ON THE SHOE!
Me: IT'S NOT ON THE SHOE! [looks at shoe in horror] IT'S NOT ON THE SHOE, it's behind the mirror.

So I walked closer to the mirror and waited. And waited. And then it came out! And I smashed it! And I missed again! AND THEN, YOU GUYS, IT RAN INTO MY ROOM!

Heidi: It ran in your room!
Me: I KNOW!
Heidi: GET IT, GET IT!

I went in my room and started stabbing the bug with the toe of the shoe.

Me: DIE, BUG, DIE DIE DIE!
Heidi: Is it dead?
Me: AHHHHHH!!
Heidi: Is it dead?
Me: WHY. WON'T. IT. DIE???
Heidi: Is it dead?
Me: . . .
Heidi: Is it dead?
Me: Yeah.
Heidi: I'll get the vacuum and you can sweep it up.
Me: Good idea.

So the bug is now inside our vacuum. Hopefully it's dead. Otherwise, I'm afraid it'll attack me the next time I empty the vacuum cleaner. I feel a lot closer to Heidi now. Like we've been through battle together. Because that WAS a battle and don't you argue because YOU WEREN'T THERE. You didn't see the evil look on that nefarious bug's face.

(To be continued? DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN!)

Is it because he's always correcting people's grammar? "Whom! Whom!" Sometimes it's who!

I went to the eye doctor yesterday, because I haven't been in . . . oh, two years? At least. Also, I lost my last pair of contacts back in January. ACTUALLY, I lost them on New Years Eve Eve, but that's a long story and I'm trying to keep this short. Get it? GET IT? Anyway, so I've just been wearing my glasses or nothing since then. My eyesight isn't that bad. Just bad enough that I need glasses to drive. Or like, during meetings and stuff when I want to see the computer screen if someone is doing a power point presentation or something else equally lame and boring. I mean exciting. Totally exciting. I love my job.

The reason I finally made an appointment was because A) it's almost the end of the year and I wanted to get new glasses and contacts before open enrollment so I don't have to get vision insurance next year B) I wasn't wearing my glasses for reading or at the computer because it made my eyes feel funny so I thought maybe my prescription had gotten worse and C) I am vain and was tired of wearing my glasses all the time.

My first mistake was making the appointment at the LensCrafters in the mall, but I didn't know it was in the mall when I made the appointment. I thought it was just BY the mall, so I called them before my appointment to find out where by the mall they were, because it turns out there's a lot of shit down there.

Me: Hi, I have an appointment this afternoon and I know you're down by the mall but I'm not sure exactly where.
LensCrafters Lady: Um, we're by Elder-Beerman.
Me: . . .
LL: Across from Walden Books on the first floor.
Me: Oh, you're INSIDE THE MALL.
LL: Yes.
Me: Oh! OK, I'm so glad I called.

So they already knew I was stupid, which is good because it saved me time once I got there from making an ass of myself in another way BUT THAT DIDN'T STOP ME! HAHAHA!

Once I sat there for a while and filled out some paperwork, a technician took me back for "pre-screening." She asked me a bunch of questions, like if I ever had dry eyes or headaches and if I read a lot (um, you could say that) or if I spent a lot of time on the computer (um, you could say that) or liked to poke myself repeatedly in the eye with a sharp object. Then she asked if I had any hobbies.

Me: Oh! I just started running.
Her: Um. But no hobbies that really affect your eyes?
Me: Oh! Well, not unless I fall down on a stick or something.
Her: OK, moving along . . .

But what she DOESN'T know is that it's extremely likely that I might fall down and impale my eye on a stick. Sure, it hasn't happened yet, but it COULD.

Then the doctor came in and did the whole "is 1 better? or 2? 3 . . . or 4?" I hate those tests. I mean, there's no wrong answer but I'm always afraid I'm going to say the wrong thing. Like she's messing with me and really 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 are all the exact same thing and she goes back and says, "Ha! I got another one," to the other doctors who are all hanging out in the doctor break room. Then I got in trouble for cheating during the peripheral vision test. She told me to look into her eye and tell her when I saw her fingers on either side of my face and whenever I'd see her hand starting to move I'd look over at it and she'd be all "Jennie! Stop cheating!" I wasn't doing it on purpose though. If I see a hand coming up on the side of my face, I assume it's there to slap me or something so I just wanted to be ready to duck or cry or call for help.

Anyway, it turns out that the reason wearing my glasses was making my eyes feel funny is because my eyesight has actually gotten better. It's a Christmas miracle! Only it's November. So it's a Thanksgiving miracle!