Numbers is going to have to wait, people.
I have to tell you about what happened this morning in my bathroom.
See, I live in Brooklyn, you guys. I do not live in nature, I do not live where the wild things are. I live in a concrete structure with very few portals to the outside world.
So why is it that there happened to be a centipede on Babe's towel this morning as I was getting out of the shower. Do you know what a centipede looks like? Here, click this link. UM OR DON'T if you DON'T WANT TO SEE ONE.
If you know me, you know I fear bugs. I am practically phobic. When I was in college I purposely took an entomology course so I could get rid of my fear of insects. It didn't help.
What was I to do? If I don't kill the centipede, by the time I get home I would be RIDDLED with doubt - it could be ANYWHERE. In my breakfast cereal, in my bed, on the ceiling waiting to fall IN MY HAIR.
So, I screamed, left the bathroom, started to get ready for work, grabbed a wad of paper towels and went back in the bano determined to kill this gargantuan creature.
It moved. While I was plotting my attack. I screamed. Grabbed the bug with the paper towels and threw it towards the trash can. Where it fell out of the paper towels, and dragged its half broken body into hiding.
I ran my eight month pregnant body out of the bathroom.
Went back into the bathroom, determined this time. I saw it. There, only half a centipede now. A fiftypede running along side the toilet. I picked up my weapon, my paper towel, and literally yelled:
I AM GOING TO GET YOU MOTHER F*CKER!!! And squashed the centipede and threw it away.
Then I put my hair product in, ate my cereal and went to work.