pests

Last weekend was different.
Not in a good way, but at least it was different.
I grossed myself out last weekend, thank God I survived it.

Thursday night was supposed to be Xernes’ night and he wanted to go to Jules. We compromised and agreed to go straight to Hibiki (karaoke – what else?) for the rest of the evening. But it was so fun at Jules that Xernes wouldn’t leave, and even if Sherry and the gang were coming to Jules from the Boyz2Men concert, I decided to leave. I went straight to Hibiki like a drunken divorced man not wasting any second to sing his heart out again with his equally pathetic buddies. In a matter of minutes I was with a few of the regulars, singing Olivia Newton-John like it could make me happier than dancing to fun showband music at Jules, where the gay vocalist sang Sex Bomb in nothing but a sarong and an undershirt on. Oh, and combat boots.

I spent my Friday finishing an article for an event I covered. The event was fun, but I wasn’t, so I had a hard time writing about it. I spent the day in the mall, in a coffee shop, and it took me five hours to write a simple show review. Jen and Arvin came and Eve followed and Xernes came and we all headed to Chikka Grill. I was very sleepy and a little depressed but went anyway.

Why was I depressed? Maybe because nothing new was happening to me, to my life, to my appearance, and I felt like an old hag. After an afternoon of serious pest control and attempted carpentry (our cabinet door fell off), I dashed out the door. Coffee bean, Chikka Grill.

Saturday was not as depressing, but I wasn’t exactly a happy bunny. I spent the day with people who never fail to tear me apart and make me feel like trash. They can’t help it, because I can’t help it. I can’t say no and that’s always been my problem. I can’t say no because very few people want to be with me, and saying no to any one of them would mean missing out on something, like basic human interaction, or a date of some sort. I went straight to the mall to have coffee and go shopping with Sherry, and we talked about the cause of my depression and she told me to just stop moving and focus. I think I should, but stopping would mean facing the music, and I am not sure if I’m ready for that.

Aside from my depression, another thing I’m worried about is bed bugs. Or are they dust mites? All I know is that they have somehow reached me and decided never to part from me. They’re annoying, they’re gross and they’re ugly and they make me feel like trash, like the two human pests I know. But these human pests are even harder to get rid of because I’d rather be them than be alone.