Fatigued Friday

I am so tired it’s not even funny.

I was up late Wednesday night and I can’t even remember why. I do remember that it was so hot in the bedroom that I ended up getting up at 1:30 a.m. and turning on the fan. Then last night I was up late posting my offering for the AW blog chain. I didn’t realize it was my turn until late in the afternoon and then I spent the evening struggling with the story.

This month’s blog chain is actually pretty cool. The previous poster chooses three words for the next person in line to build their story around. There’s been some awesome work so far. You can check out my story HERE and I have links to the others.

I think the reason I struggled with this piece was because I had an idea of writing about a woman who’d lost her husband to suicide and her feelings towards the issue were mixed up with the way she felt about the juniper bush in the garden that he’d promised to get rid of for her. That’s not what came out at all. :-)

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Grossness alert!

Remember when I cleaned out the kitchen cupboard because I discovered moth larva? Well cleaning out that infestation didn’t really seem to have much effect on the number of moths we have in the house, and we couldn’t figure out where they were coming from.

Then one night this week I was walking down the hall to my office and I happened to notice a moth on the wall. Naturally I killed it and afterwards looked around for more. This is where the gross part comes in.

Up on the ceiling must have been a dozen moth larva. To say I was grossed out would be an understatement. I bravely waited until the husband came home and then made him kill them. Problem solved, right?

Yeah, you’d think so.

The next night I turned on the light in the hall and looked up and there were even more of the little suckers. So after the husband killed this bunch we started getting serious about where they were all coming from.

I was positive they were coming from the linen closet and sure enough, I found the source on the top shelf. A few months ago I’d bought a bag of regular cat chow to have for emergencies (like when we run out of the good stuff and the vet’s office is closed so we can’t get any more) and the husband, in his infinite wisdom, stashed it on the top shelf of the linen closet. The moths figured it made the perfect nursery.

Ewww!

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And now I’m off to write my Excel exam. Good thing it’s open book!