It's all because of the slugs, and I'm traumatized.
I came home from hanging with with Photographer, late in the evening last Wednesday. It had rained. I was talking on the phone and I just sat down on the swing in the yard and gabbed. It had rained, as I said, and the grass was still damp and cool brushing against my legs as I sat swinging on the swing.
When I got off the phone I walked in the house.
And you know that moment when you're used to having wet legs and then dry air hits the wet and it feels all wrong and itchy? I reached to scratch my leg and right there, on my bare skin, on my shin, was a SLUG!! As in a snail with no shell sort of slug.
OMG! OMG! OMG!
I shrieked and jumped around and flung it to the ground and practically hyperventilated. I squashed it with my shoe, on the sidewalk, and just felt all heebee-jeebee about it.
I went into the house, went into the bathroom, and flipped on the light and I saw ANOTHER one on my leg, which I grabbed off with a tissue and then flushed. My heartbeat was about out of my chest and I just felt really ick-o.
And I thought I was going to lose it when I found a third one on my foot. I got it off and then jumped around like an idiot. It was gross and creepy and yucky and it was nasty. I was flinging my body around and just was a mess about it. I had to go upstairs, take off all my clothes and check in the mirror to see if there were more.
I think my heart is finally beating normally right now. Maybe.
And that's why I haven't been able to blog. I was traumatized by a slug family.
Mags
2 comments:
I knew there was a reason that I didn't like to walk through wet grass, other than the wet feet part.
Gross, gross, gross. I would be in therapy. I don't do critters.
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