WORST. WEEK. EVER.

Things started out great, then God promptly gave me a cosmic bitch-slap to put me in my place. Not only am I serving on a jury (Is there anything worse than jury duty? The Answer: NO) but this morning, while showering at the gym, I felt something crunch beneath my foot. I don’t wear flip-flops in the shower, a choice I am currently rethinking. I looked down to see that I had stepped on a bug. I should explain that “bug” is a slightly less icky euphemism that Jeff and I use when referring to a cockroach. When a “bug” is more than an inch in length, we often call it Rodan. This one was Rodan sized. In case you were curious, I am not buddist, so I didn’t feel bad for the not-so-little guy. Also, I didn’t scream like a girl. I simply moved to another shower stall, leaving someone else to mourn over Rodan’s corpse.