Attack Of The Killer Insects

Wow, I am getting really bad at this whole blogging thing. Such are the side effects of taking my job even a little seriously.

There wasn't much to tell from the weekend. Due to my ridiculous Wednesday night and then mandatory binge drinking on Thursday, Friday and Saturday, I ended up having a very quiet long weekend. Thought I'd probably say one highlight from Saturday, between all the filthy jokes and the karaoke, was probably Fosse revealing that she had two vibrators and some strange sex costume-looking sort of thing in her bag, but refusing to tell us where she was going. How mysterious. And somewhat disturbing.

Otherwise, this week has been somewhat terrifying for me. I thought I had noticed a few large moths here and there, but decided it was just a random occurence. Hence my horror on Wednesday morning when I awoke to the massive shadows of mutant moths fluttering against my window blinds. I was barely able to eat breakfast that morning as a result.

And yesterday morning, I went to a client meeting at their offices on the 23rd floor of their building, and walked in to see that their usually beautiful view of the city was obscured by about 20 of these disgusting creatures, that had somehow gotten in through the air vents. I had to sit at the other end of the table.

This morning was the last straw though -- I didn't see any moths, and went to slide open the door to my balcony, only to have about 5 of them fall into the apartment and start fluttering around. This lead to me shrieking for about 10 minues while trying to hit them with last weeks Time magazine and then clean up the dead bodies.

I've been told by several people that this has to do with the recent weather and something about migration patterns, which really makes me want to just punch them in the face, because really, couldn't you be killing some of them instead of explaining all of this to me?

And once they're all gone and dead, we will head into fly season, and then cockroach season, the thought of which makes me wonder if I'd rather risk being shot by a drug-dealer in the Brooklyn ghettos than have to put up with this nonsense. We'll see how long I last...