Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Hi, fly.


Dear fruit fly on my monitor,

I should swat you but you're busy there cleaning yourself. If cleanliness is next to godliness then that would be kind of sacriligious, eh? No doubt you'll get whacked eventually, because that's what happens to flies.

Sounds pretty shitty that we who have the ultimate power of life and death for pretty much everything have decided that your entire species is not valuable or beautiful or useful enough to be allowed to live. It's all about us and whether we can make use of you. If we can't then you're ugly and we hate you and you shouldn't exist. I can't claim that I haven't been in on it.

Then again, some of you have been involved in an awful lot of food spoilage and disease spreading so maybe you should piss off before I kill you.

But since you're still here you may as well hear about my day.

I don't know if it's lack of sleep or my diet or the water in Maple Ridge but I've had the feeling over the past couple weeks like I'm getting progressively dumber. I don't tell anyone about most of it. It's mostly little stuff like managing to forget that my sister is left-handed. It doesn't disrupt my life but it sure makes me feel stupid.

That's why I missed my bus stop today on my way to the specialist. I knew in my mind and from double checking on the map that the bus route ran parallel to the street that I needed to be on and yet I kept watching for its name on the signs at the intersections we crossed. I got off three stops later than I should have knowing that I had definitely gone too far.

Three stops can be as little as two or three short blocks in Vancouver but in the suburbs it's more like two kilometres. I ran two kilometres to the dental surgeon in the rain. Yay me.

The verdict? I'm getting five teeth removed in September. Three are impacted and one will involve cutting open the roof of my mouth. That will be a barrel of laughs, I'm sure.

All of a sudden I'm getting phone calls about job offers. It's weird because I haven't applied for anything at all in a few weeks and now that I'm occupied for the rest of the summer I don't need them. It seems like I'm everyone's second choice or afterthought.

I need to come up with some sort of script that I can say on the phone, something cheerful and polite that says too little too late you twits but please keep me in mind for the future.

And in all of this, fly, you've flown away. You inattentive little bastard.