Good bugs, Bad Bugs.

So, imagine you're watching the aforementioned Firefly.

Imagine the room is nice and dark, the only illumination coming from the image being cast on the aforementioned seven foot screen.

You come to a calmer part in one of your favorite episodes, let us imagine Jaynestown is that episode.

Now lets say, that hypothetically, it's about 12:30AM.

And you get thirsty, so let's just propose that you reach for your glass of nice cool water on the floor next to your futon. And let's pretend that when you bring it up to about waist level you suddenly realize that something is scrambling about on your hand. and that object feels almost the size and weight of a mouse, except that it has no fur, and too many legs.

Now imagine that the object, in the time it takes you to realize this, moves to the inside of your wrist and seems to be considering climbing up your arm.

What is your reaction?

If you're me, you apparently have two.

Inside my head, there is a 'me' that I imagine when I visualize and process this scenario. And when this happens I shriek at the top of my lungs and violently shake my entire body and arm, hurling my half-full water glass across the room in a simulation of a violent siezure. This version of me scares the living shit out of my roommate, and causes my newly aquired creature-from-hell to sling in some random direction into the darkened room.

As it turns out, in real life, I calmly set my water glass down, then flick my wrist without making a sound to dislodge the creature. Thereafter, as my brain is quietly gibbering 'therewasaroachonmeohmyword' and cowering in a corner of my psyche, the rest of me goes on regardless. I make a disgruntled remark to my roommate, strike the futon to cause my tiny assailant to scurry across the open floor, and then smite it mercilessly with a shoe. And I do mean "smite" in every sense of the word--I only hit it once, yet I managed to disconnect most of the little bastard's legs with the fury of the blow, and permanently fuse a significant portion of his bodily fluids with our carpet.

I have NO IDEA how I remain this calm through such a creepifying sensation. My skin still crawls (har har) just thinking about it, and I feel like I need a shower, even though I already washed my hands up to the elbows.

Twice.

[shivers] In any case, if this blog had a "mood" tag, it would read "BLECH!"