(This post was originally written in 2006–thought I’d share it again, because it’s sort of appropriate today too!)
Today, I was sleepy, just woke from an afternoon nap, and had to pee… I go into the bathroom, and while in there, doing my thing, I notice there is a big black bug with long feelers on his head just wandering around in the bathtub, toward the back.
With nothing better to do, I lean over and turn on the water and pull the thingy to start the shower. The water from the shower comes out and hits him and he scampers, trying to crawl up the back of the tub. His feet (and don’t ask me why I assume he’s a he, but with bugs, unless I see babies crawling out of them, I always assume they are male – think there’s a reason for that?)
So, his feet were scrambling and he was trying so hard to get a foothold, but he couldn’t climb the now wet tub. He then slid and got caught in a current of water, and floated toward the drain section of the tub. Well, in a frantic rush to try to scramble out of the tub, he started climbing the side wall.
So I turned off the shower, let the water from the faucet run, and pulled the little lever that stops up the tub and then watched as the water rose higher and higher, closer and closer to the bug’s escape attempt.
And then, the water finally touched his foot, and caught up in the current that was the rushing waterfall of the bathtub, the bug slid into the water and what did he do?
He swam. (shaking head)
So I pushed the lever and let the water start to drain, and the swimming bug now was being sucked downward in a spiral of swirling water, until he hit the drain trap strainer in the drain, where he spun around and around.
After all the water drained – he climbed out of the drain strainer – and started trying to climb up the side again.
He was succeeding too, until I took a shampoo bottle and knocked him down, once again turning the water on, this time pure hot, steaming water, and I watched him swirl around and around again under the scalding torrents.
Finally, assuming him dead, I turned off the water and sat there staring at the bug.
First one leg twitched.
Then another… then a couple more, ’cause he is a bug, after all.
And then he somehow managed to flip back over on his feet, and tried once again to climb out of the drain.
Somehow, after that, I couldn’t bear to kill him, so there he sits in the tub, until a man comes along to pick him up and toss him outside – don’t care which man does it – just know for some reason it’s gotta be one of the men, because I, as a woman, do not touch bugs.
It’s one of the advantages of being a woman, you know. We don’t have to touch bugs, and we aren’t prone to gratuitous flatulence.
I suppose the reason I’m telling you this story is that in a strange way, I feel like I am this bug.
I’m in the tub, and the water is swirling and the sides are all slippery, and there’s a big shampoo bottle keeps whacking me on the head.
Yet, no matter how much is thrown at me, no matter how battered, scaled, and beaten my body is, I still manage to twitch my legs and flip my body over, and start trying to climb back up again.
Metaphoric.. analogy… huh? Whatever…
While I would really like the universe to quit smacking me with the proverbial shampoo bottle (ever seen shampoo bottles in proverbs? me neither), I hope that I am going to be AS resilient or even more so than the bug whose fate I controlled today.
Also like that bug, I won’t mind if a good looking, sexy man comes and picks me up in his hands.
However, I would like to request, that unlike the bug, that man does not throw me out.
I think I’m done talking about bugs.
Right now – I’m gonna go lay down for a bit, so I guess I’ll talk to ya’ll laters!
I missed everyone… more than you know.
Love and stuff,