Melt Down

It was just a little bug. Alone, really quite meaningless. But the awful thing about fleas is there is never just one. EVER. After I had ripped the little fucker apart I found myself stomping up and down the foyer, and I mean stomping. Between the stomping were FUCKs, a lot of them. I was absolutely and completely batshit. It really was quite the outburst. I got tired of cursing and stomping about as fast as I started. Now I found myself snotting and sobbing. Okay, seriously, over a flea. yep. all over a flea. Last year was such a nightmare trying to get rid of them. All the work, and money. I just couldn’t deal thinking about it. But the reality is I don’t think my meltdown had anything to do with fleas and had a lot to do with the past two weeks. But fleas? really. I’m so fucking pissed. Need to find some chemicals and go on the warpath again.

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