I Have Complaints

I have complaints. And anxieties. Oh, so much fucking anxiety. I am a joy to be around this weekend, let me tell you. And I’d have liked to spend more time outside in the garden, where, after about ten minutes, you can’t think about whether your dreams are stupid and unreachable for reasons you don’t quite understand and have no control over.

That’s what’s nice about the garden. In the garden, there is no hope. No dreams. Just you and the dirt and the stuff that’s growing there.

But, you know, when it’s not 100,000 degrees out, there are ticks. Last night, I pulled two seed ticks off me. You know what a seed tick is? It is literally, for real, not making this shit up, a baby tick that needs your blood so that it can grow another pair of legs. Maybe this is my anti-bug bias showing, but I don’t care how tiny you are, if you need blood in order to add fucking appendages, you are a monster, a hideous monster.

I’d like to Sevin dust the whole yard, but I don’t want to fuck up the bees and butterflies.

So, I’m sulking inside instead.

2 thoughts on “I Have Complaints

  1. I did not know that, despite having heard “seed tick” my whole life. Now I am bone deep terrified. Great start to the week.

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