If You Don’t Already Know I’m Weird…

You probably shouldn’t read this. This post is going to be weird, random, stupid, completely pointless…all of the above. It’s not pretty, it’s not even a tiny bit cute. You’ve been warned.

I murdered a fly yesterday, and I’m NOT proud of myself. (I know you’re rolling your eyes, but let me explain.) Like most normal humans, I kill bugs ALL the time. I can’t stand having them in my personal space, especially flies that buzz right next to your ear. *Cringes*

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So I walked into the bathroom and heard it (the fly). There it was, on the window. I was like, “Oh, I don’t think so. Not in MY tiny bathroom.” So I immediately shut the door and prepared to fight. I grabbed the Febreze, aimed and fired. Febreze isn’t as dangerous as Lysol, but it definitely slowed the fly down. So I sprayed again. Flies don’t like getting wet because then they can’t fly…so they become a walk. (Think about that.)

I felt bad torturing the poor fly with my Febreze gun, so I stopped. (Plus, I was making a mess on the windows.) It finally managed to fly away [or hop] and landed on the toilet seat. Luckily the lid was up (not usually a good thing) so I quickly snapped into action and slammed the lid down. “HA! Take that, fly!” I stood there wondering what to do next. I didn’t want to open the lid and have the fly surprise me and fly in my face. So I walked away and watched some TV. Meanwhile, my boyfriend is clueless about the whole bathroom drama. At the first commercial, I went back to the bathroom and decided I needed to lift the lid and hope it wouldn’t fly out and attack me. Well, there it was, just floating in the water. First, I thought how skilled I was to have managed to catch and trap the fly. Then I saw it kicking and suddenly I felt like an awful person. There I was, watching TV, while the fly was fighting for its life in the toilet water, struggling to reach the edge.

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Here’s where it gets even more weird. (Because I’m weird.) Most people would have just flushed. What did I do? I grabbed some toilet paper, bunched it up and dipped it in the toilet in an attempt to rescue the fly. I know, what kind of sick person tries to kill something, only to rescue it later? But that’s what I did. (My hand did NOT come into contact with the water at all, I swear.) The fly stuck on the paper pretty easily, so I quickly pulled it out. It was still moving its little legs. For a second, I was happy I saved it. Then I wondered if it was too late for the little guy. Then I worried that it might recover quickly and either crawl from the paper to my hand, or fly into my face, so I tossed the toilet paper with the fly on it into the garbage. Then I tied the garbage bag up. There I was, standing there like an idiot, wondering what to do with the garbage bag. So again, I walked away and watched some more TV.

After the next commercial break, I wondered if I should throw the garbage bag out and leave a little hole for the fly to escape outside. Then I realized it was 9pm and I didn’t want to go outside to throw out the trash. Anyway, when I finally (and very slowly) opened the bag, nothing came flying out. It was dead. I killed it. Not only did I kill it, I played games with it and made it suffer. I felt like such a cruel person. What if I were a fly? How would I like it if someone ambushed me with Febreze, threw me into the toilet, let me suffer for a few minutes, and then made a pitiful effort to save me, only to toss me in the trash afterwards? An awful and completely weird person, that’s who.

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That’s my story. I’ve killed my fair share of bugs, but I always feel bad about it. They’re living things, too. Poor little fly, it had no idea what it was getting itself into when it came buzzing through my door. Lesson learned.

~Lily~