Really, I'm getting bugged again?!

So… I alluded to, in my last post, that I have so much else to write about, those things to write about being work, home, job, whatever. And I may or may not have said that I’m stressing BIG time about work. What I didn’t say is that one of the reasons I haven’t posted about my job stress is because I am so wiped out from it that I can’t find the energy to write about it.

What I am say’n now, though, is Holy Shit Fuck, and me saying this has nothing to do with work in this moment. Yes, I am home on a Saturday night, and I just said the word strait out: FUCK. I didn’t say Friggen, F’n, or scale down, like I usually do when using the word fuck, but I just said a straight FUCK!!!!! That’s what is warranted here.

Why holy shit FUCK!? Well, because as I sat down to start to compile my notes about the “I’m friggen stressed beyond at work” post, I got distracted. I decided to check my email first. That’s where I encountered a wonderful e-mail from Ava, about this old lady Rose, and Rose’s message to the kids she went to college with. Her message was essentially to remember that growing old is mandatory, but growing up is optional, and, we make a Living by what we get and we make a Life by what we give.

Great message.

But, just as I was about to settle in, and take a breath, and think about that message, how wonderful that it was, and how nice it was to get an email from Ava in my evening, I felt something under my foot. I thought it was a leaf. I don’t know what I thought it was. It was just something that was there and, as I was still reading the email about Rose, not looking, I reached under my foot to pick up the leaf, the something I thought I’d tracked in, whatever it was. It felt crunchy, light. Then, I realized I’d just picked up a roach.

I’m burnt, man. I’m so stressed to the wall about work, and so wigged out by this place that it is so dark that it’s messing with me, I’m telling you, I can’t live with roaches, too. I can’t be picking them up and not knowing they are in my fingers. FUCKING GROSS!

Why yet another roach? I was already starting to feel crazy from the dark of this place, and overwhelmed from paying almost $300.00 more in rent a month, that I can’t afford. Just when I’d leveled off, after having had a conversation with another neighbor, who told me the dark in her place messes with her too, and just when I was barely getting to a point where I thought: Nah, man, it’s the job that’s really bugging me out. Then, I get bugged out, literally?!! What the fuCK!?

Seriously, have you ever picked a roach up in your bare hand before? Without a napkin, or without peeling it off the bottom of a shoe, but picked it up finger tips to crawly, creepy carcass?

Forget that I was thinking it was something else. When I already had a day today where I was so overwhelmed by my work-stress situation that I slept an extra hour this morning just not to feel my own heart pounding out of my chest from stress, picking up a roach is so NOT COOL!

My motto in life now, is I HATE ROACHES! Work roaches, stress roaches, people roaches, and most of all, real BIG, gross roaches. I don’t care if it is irrational fear, fear of bugs or spiders. This is now my second insane bug encounter.

Once I thought there was a fly was on me, on my leg as I was sitting at a coffee table drawing a picture. It wasn’t a fly. It was a black widow crawling across my leg. I realized as much when I brushed it off and it crawled away with its red ass glowing on its round black back.

Now, I’m jacked up on stress and I just picked up an inch long roach. What is this? Seriously? This creepish encounter, it’s filed.

FUCK! I am so not feeling fabulous right now.