It's Monday morning again and I'm dragging. I dreamed about Harry Potter's spiders and Hermione Granger half the night. The 2nd movie was on last night so I guess it make an impression? I don't know. I just know the girl who plays Hermione Granger, named Emma Watson, is about 15 years old so dreaming about her is kind of weird. And no, I'm not putting her on my "IDH" list. Not until she's older anyway.
I was awakened at 4 a.m. by my little black female cat. She was sitting in the hall meowing. "I wanna go outside!" That's what she was saying, in case you don't speak cat.
"Shut the hell up, it's 4 a.m.!" That's what I said in reply, in case you don't speak 'spank your butt.'
At 5 a.m. I was awakened again by the unmistakable sound of a beetle trapped in a plastic bag. I listened for awhile, having been just dreaming about a forest filled with giant spiders and a girl much too young, until I felt I had properly guaged the approximate size and location of this beetle. It was not a beetle, I surmised, but a giant Florida flying super roach. I got up, got a shoe and a handgun, and went over to where the sound was. There was a plastic bag on the floor next to the trash can. It was quiet now. I stood leaning over it until it began to move again. Sure enough, it was in the bag. I moved several objects aside to make room for the deadly battle that was about to ensue and then picked up the bag.
A giant Florida mother-fucking Godzilla cockroach leaped out of the bag and onto the floor.
"WHAM!" (And I don't mean WHAM UK, for those of you who remember that splinter group back in the days when Mtv was young and played music instead of whatever the hell it plays now.)
I walloped him. He kept moving. WHAM WHAM WHAM! I pounded him like a nail. I glanced over at my wife. She was sound asleep still. Good, because she freaks out whenever these bastards find their way into the house. I got some tissue and 'escorted' his big, flattened ass to our toilet. I threw him in and watched in amazement as this freshly pounded monster began to swim and kick and fight for his life despite all of my efforts to crush him. Then I flushed him down and went back to bed.
If there were any loonies on the path on the way to work this morning I couldn't tell you. I was in a daze, driving along listening to the radio and picturing Mick Jagger doing his chicken dance as he sang the song that was playing.
Apparently school has started back. On every corner there were unhappy little faces awaiting the Yellow Ship of Despair to carry them back to their cells. I checked to make sure I had my badge with me and drove on, pretty certain that I was going to be late or close to it by the time I arrived at work.
It's a sunny day. I have a lot of work to do and I'm dead tired. In the process of searching the internet for the proper spelling of 'Hermione Granger' I've discovered that there are endless websites dedicated to her. I think this is fairly predictable, yet still somewhat disturbing considering most of the photos I see are of her as a very young child. Oh well, so much to do. So little energy.
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