All week there has been a bastard of a bug, biting me in my sleep. Before you think I’m filthy -sometimes that’s true- I’m actually a self-proclaimed, obsessive compulsive when it comes to my cleaning habits. I hate dirt. I won’t even wear flip flops for ducks sake.
What the hell. I rip the sheets off the bed, throw my robe and pajamas in the washer too. This rogue, eight-legged schmuck is going down. New sheets. Lysoled the mattress. You sprayed the mattress with Lysol? Vacuumed the febreezed floors. I am made of questions on your cleaning action plan. Yes, I vacuum the mattress after dousing it in Lysol. And yes, if anyone has seen the Febreeze commercials, don’t they literally spray everything? And by the way, marketing department at Febreeze, you missed spraying the floors. Don’t judge I believe it sucks up whatever filth collected by these disinfectant sprays once they’ve dried. Sort of like a disinfectant spray, magnet dirt grabber. I don’t know. I may be nuts. Either way, give it a try. What have you got to lose? Oh, I don’t know, time. Precious time.
Or live with killer bugs… see if I care. *shrugs
Finally, this should do it. Or did it… I was lethargic following this slaying of the spider
So yeah, bugs attack me at night… and, I end up eating them. At least I got my protein intake for the day. Um… I don’t think that’s how that works.
Moral of the story? Rita, on occasion, eats bugs.
At night. Don’t forget, killer bugs. While sleeping.
It’s like I’m a sleeping bug, ninja warrior.
*nods
Yeah…

