When one of Dave's fellow graduate students, who had lived in our apartment complex last year, made an offhanded comment about the centipedes being huge I didn't even give it a second thought. So far we had only seen some spiders and a millipede that was maybe three quarters of an inch long. We obviously, that was Saturday night and yesterday I walk into our bedroom and there is a big nasty bug with many legs chillin' on my wall. Now I'm talking at least 2 inches long. No good. No good indeed.
Clearly the correctthing to do was to get Dave, insist that killing giant nasty bugs is a big strong man job, and arm him with a can of Raid. I was, in all ways possible, a pansy. Oh well, he killed the bug and we went back to the living room, albeit me with my toes curled under my feet. Fifteen minutes later, I walk back to the bedroom and there is another one of the damn things on a totally different wall. Having learned absolutely nothing from the previous nasty bug encounter, I set feminists back another 30 years and had Dave kill that one too. Hey I don't burn my bra, I buy it in pretty colors.
Fast forward to this evening. Dave is at seminar and I'm on the phone with my mom discussing the joys of car travel with my Grandmother when I see on the wall in the hallway, you guessed it, another centipede. This time I mustered up the 1/4 tsp of courage to get close enough to Raid the thing to death myself. Then I squished it with one of Dave's shoes (Hey I like my shoes. I don't want gross bug guts on them!), which I then left on the bug in the hallway for Dave when we came home with dinner after his seminar. I do so love my big strong man.
Now the dinner with which we returned was something that neither of us had had in years and probably wouldn't have had for years if the pizza place that we had decided would be our standard didn't close before 9:15 when I tried to order. Pizza Hut Stuffed Crust pizza. Such delicious processed cheese flavor. I find it safe to say that of all the sub-par chain pizza out there, this is my fav. So take an evening, drink in the nostalgia and pick some up. Like Squeezits and Cheez Whiz it'll take you back to being 10...giving you all the more reason to have someone else kill your big scary bugs!
Since clearly these are the things I chose to write about you might be able to surmise that I have yet to get a job. I promise you I have been getting applications out there. But, as was said in a Family Guy that makes all humans with even a shred of a concept of what is appropriate squirm, "now we play the waiting game!" So I'm going to keep my fingers crossed and continue to send out "Hire Me" brain waves...and hope the centipedes call a truce.