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Fuck Politeness

This is a revolution, not a public relations movement

Ok, I am a total fucking baby, I admit it. I have a phobia of moths. I felt so validated to learn that there was a word for this – mottephobia – that it was slightly pathetic to behold.

This morning I got up knowing all the things I needed to do around the house, put on a pot of coffee…and sat down and wrote two blog posts. Two hours later, I hopped in the shower, got dressed and ducked outside to bring some drying laundry in from the balcony. I figured I still had an hour and a half before my boyfriend came over, I’d still get the housework sorted.

I was on the phone to one of my best friends, and we were discussing if I could or couldn’t make it to the pub to catch up with a guy I haven’t seen for years, and I saw this black streak shoot across the room.

Near my front door, perched high on the wall is a black moth/butterfly the size of a goddamned bird! I kid you  not, this thing has a wing span of a good six inches, and that’s while it has it’s wings tucked back a little. I don’t know if it’s a moth or a butterfly. In my mind, there’s a size threshold where the division means nothing. It’s a fucking enourmous flying insect-y thing that crawled out of a cocoon and the world would have been a better place if it had stayed in there.

I can appreciate the objective beauty of the thing – if it were nailed to a fucking board, or anywhere other than in my HOUSE I’d appreciate it more!!! I don’t want to kill it, I don’t even want someone to kill it for me, I just want it to GET THE FUCK OUT!!

My hysteria on this matter is well documented, the friend I was talking to when it happened had to come rescue me one other time when I was similarly barricaded in my room from another giant moth-like thing (HOW does this happen? I mean who else can tell you that not once but TWICE a gigantic fucking moth/butterfly has invaded their home?)

So now I am sitting in my room, having left the balcony door open, with the hallway door closed (I yelled in a high pitched squeal at my son when he suggested opening it to check where it was), the housework out there is being delayed further, my hair’s gonna dry all frizzy cos I left the bobby pins etc out there, and I am stuck in my room until my friend has her breakfast and comes to my rescue. PATHETIC I know it, but seriously…as soon as I think about it I get shaky!! So anyway, having blogged on this for long enough to calm down, I’m gonna do some sorting in my room. I am absolutely NOT going to get over it and go out to see what’s the what with my new houseguest. YYYYeeeeeuuuuch!

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