We interrupt whatever the hell you were doing to bring you
this important announcement:
There is a fly in my office.
(Okay, it’s not that important, but it’s Friday afternoon,
and if you were THAT busy, would you be reading this? NO, you would not.)
Here’s why this bug is (hahaha) bugging me… Back in the day,
when I was a young, attractive, sassy young thing (did I mention I was YOUNG?
Can I say it again? I WAS YOUNG ONCE, YOU GUYS!) I wore this perfume that I
luuuuuhveeed. I wore the heck out of that perfume, y’all. It was good friends with my skin chemistry so
that I always smelled like … rainbows. Rainbows and dolphin giggles and
unicorns and glitter.
(It helped that I was young.)
Anyway, my sassy, sweet smelling self was married to … well,
Mr Not So Very Right. And then she got divorced and that made her all of the
following:
1)
Sad
2)
Depressed
3)
Suicidal
4)
VIOLENTLY ill at the smell of said perfume
Seriously. The smell of my (formerly) favorite perfume would
cause me to throw up like a coed after a night of tequila and poor decision
making.
Recently, however, I was in a store and I thought, “I wonder
if that perfume still makes me gag.” Not because I wanted to check my emotional
vomit reflex – that would be WEIRD, yo – but because I REALLY loved that
perfume.
AND – giggles and dancing – it did not.
So I bought it, because duh.
Which brings me back to the fly.
Apparently, I am not the ONLY kid here who thinks I smell
like some sort of goddess (which, by the way? I TOTALLY DO) because Mr “How did
you even get IN here” fly is all “Hi Danielle’s Head, this is the annoying fly,
requesting a fly by.”
So I say, “Negative, annoying insect, the pattern is full.”
And of course he ignores me, this little Maverick-imitating
fella.
If this bug doesn’t stop buzzing my noggin, I’m seriously
going to lose it and do what I want to do anyway, which is run outside and frolic
in the grass. Of course, I’ll probably
attract bees, being as I smell delicious, but I think I’ll be okay with that.
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