I am twirling around my bedroom, singing "Come What May" as I put away laundry and imagine that I am in Moulin Rouge. I freeze mid-note as I spot something terrifying: a huge moth on my curtain.
I run from the room and slam the door behind me, taking deep breaths and trying to process the situation. It is kind of late to call for help. However, I cannot sleep with that THING near my face.
I decide that, before I resort to calling for rescue, I should attempt to save myself. I am, after all, about to spend 6 weeks in the wilderness. My first idea involves turning off the light in my room and turning on the hall light, which will at least get the moth out of my room, to be dealt with later. This is not aggressive enough. The thing is just happy to chill on the curtain.
"Okay," I think. "It just needs an incentive to move." I have to rustle the curtain. But there's no way in hell I'm getting that close.
So I start throwing hangers at the curtain. After each hanger, I screech and run from the room. I miss on the first two tries. When I peek around the corner after the third try, I see that I've been successful. I hit my mark. However, the moth did not follow my directions. Rather than fly towards the light, that a-hole chose to hide.
I weigh my options. I don't want to bother Nina. I eye my couch dubiously. It's very comfortable... I could just sleep there... but my apartment is so hot right now. I need the air conditioning in the bedroom. And I know Nina usually stays up late...
I sigh in consternation and text Nina. Turns out she's on the train on her way home from Iron and Wine at Ravinia and is happy to help. Back when I lived up on Montrose, Nina always used to save me from "giant nasties." That girl is brave and dependable and has saved my ass more times than I can count. (Actually, she literally saved my ass in Vegas when I sat in a plant and she pulled out the pricklies.)
I speed downtown to pick up Nina and her friend, Giovanni, who has offered his assistance as well. Nina reminisces about the time in high school I was driving down her street when I suddenly stared screaming, threw the car into park, and jumped out. Everyone else followed my lead and stood in the street looking puzzled until I explained there was a moth in the car. This phobia goes back a long way.
Nina and Giovanni stroll boldly into my room, ready to handle the situation. The moth has disappeared.
At first I am convinced it's just hiding, but no, we search every corner of the room. Nina even checks the closet. We conclude that the flying hanger must have scared it back out the window.
Nina and Giovanni aren't even a little bit annoyed. Giovanni makes sure my window is sealed up tight this time so no more moths can get in. Kind of an anti-climactic end to all that drama.
But I can now sleep in peace in my nice, cool, moth-free bedroom.
I run from the room and slam the door behind me, taking deep breaths and trying to process the situation. It is kind of late to call for help. However, I cannot sleep with that THING near my face.
I decide that, before I resort to calling for rescue, I should attempt to save myself. I am, after all, about to spend 6 weeks in the wilderness. My first idea involves turning off the light in my room and turning on the hall light, which will at least get the moth out of my room, to be dealt with later. This is not aggressive enough. The thing is just happy to chill on the curtain.
"Okay," I think. "It just needs an incentive to move." I have to rustle the curtain. But there's no way in hell I'm getting that close.
So I start throwing hangers at the curtain. After each hanger, I screech and run from the room. I miss on the first two tries. When I peek around the corner after the third try, I see that I've been successful. I hit my mark. However, the moth did not follow my directions. Rather than fly towards the light, that a-hole chose to hide.
I weigh my options. I don't want to bother Nina. I eye my couch dubiously. It's very comfortable... I could just sleep there... but my apartment is so hot right now. I need the air conditioning in the bedroom. And I know Nina usually stays up late...
I sigh in consternation and text Nina. Turns out she's on the train on her way home from Iron and Wine at Ravinia and is happy to help. Back when I lived up on Montrose, Nina always used to save me from "giant nasties." That girl is brave and dependable and has saved my ass more times than I can count. (Actually, she literally saved my ass in Vegas when I sat in a plant and she pulled out the pricklies.)
I speed downtown to pick up Nina and her friend, Giovanni, who has offered his assistance as well. Nina reminisces about the time in high school I was driving down her street when I suddenly stared screaming, threw the car into park, and jumped out. Everyone else followed my lead and stood in the street looking puzzled until I explained there was a moth in the car. This phobia goes back a long way.
Nina and Giovanni stroll boldly into my room, ready to handle the situation. The moth has disappeared.
At first I am convinced it's just hiding, but no, we search every corner of the room. Nina even checks the closet. We conclude that the flying hanger must have scared it back out the window.
Nina and Giovanni aren't even a little bit annoyed. Giovanni makes sure my window is sealed up tight this time so no more moths can get in. Kind of an anti-climactic end to all that drama.
But I can now sleep in peace in my nice, cool, moth-free bedroom.
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