So after the disaster that was last night and then five fitful hours of sleep leading up to a 14-hour workday, I woke up and saw a giant bug the size of my thumb running across my floor. I promptly whacked it to death using a nearby copy of
Maxim (is there anything that magazine
can't do?) and flushed it down the toilet.
Okay, so God is infesting my place with locusts. I know one of the Ten Plagues when I see it. In the words of Chevelle, "Wonder what's next?"