A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal. -Oscar Wilde

Thursday, October 14, 2010

stinkbugs and sleepwalking

Some days I feel like I'm regressing. Not just when I notice how long my hair is getting again, or when I'm wearing black-ish nail polish (which is ostensibly chic-ish once more), or even when I noticed that I was wearing a plaid shirt and light wash jeans (maybe I'll be lost in the 90s again for Halloween this year!), but when I encounter a (EUCH!) cockroach mere days after my apartment was supposedly treated or (EUCH!) two* stinkbugs that snuck into my bedroom and I just want to assume the fetal position because I really DON'T WANT TO DEAL WITH IT, but I HAVE to because I'm an ADULT who lives ALONE and junk so there's NOBODY ELSE and I don't want to NOT KNOW where they are so I HAVE to take care of them IMMEDIATELY. So, euch.

*I'm not sure if they were two, or the same one I sucked up into the vacuum cleaner managed to escape and plot its deadly revenge upon me. The situations are equally disturbing.

Alright, now that I've mostly got that out of my system, can I tell you what a freaking weird week it's been? Not really, because that would be revealing far more detail on a blog about work and other sensitive matters. But I assure you, it's been a bizarre week. Not just a bizarre week, but a bizarre ass week. And when a week has earned the "ass" modifier, you know it has been quite a week indeed.

Of the things this week that I do feel at liberty to share with the (totally hypothetical) large audience (did I mention hypothetical? I know I can count my readers with one hand) that may potentially see this blog, I can share why I remembered why I don't really wear red lipstick. For one thing, I spent my day paranoid that I looked like a clown when it was fresh and that it looked gross and uneven when more than five minutes old. For another, it gets everywhere. By which I mean EVERYWHERE. Lame.

Also lame? The noises that woke me up at quarter to four this morning. Because then I couldn't get back to sleep and I sleepwalked (sleptwalk? sleptwalked?) through the day. Not a good way to go through the kind of day where you need to be on point with teeny details while everything seems fraught with delicate interpersonal relationships.

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