Bug Me Not

I think it is a well established fact that I do not like mornings. Nor am I a big fan of bugs. And yet I keep encountering them in combination, when I am really not at my best. The other morning I went to walk from the living room to the kitchen to get Seamus his breakfast, and there, dangling right at head level, was a gigantic black spider. I almost walked right into it. With my face. Luckily, I spotted it just in the nick of time and jumped back, yes, shrieking like a little girl. I may not be little, but I sure as hell am a girl when it comes to bugs. Especially when those bugs are hideously overgrown spiders.

Then the next day a huge beetle landed on me while I was in the shower. I yelled again and flicked it off, then scooped it up with the washcloth and threw the whole thing out of the shower stall. Like many of you, I shower naked, so it was particularly alarming to have a bug on my person. Plus I'm practically blind without my glasses on, so I feel even more vulnerable to sneak bug attacks. In this case, I got out of the shower - taking the time to carefully and suspiciously shake out my towel and bathrobe - and the beetle was just gone. There was no carcass in the washcloth, no trail of drops leading out of the bathroom. He had just vanished. Don't think that didn't worry me all day, knowing that there was an angry beetle lurking in my bathroom, biding his time and plotting revenge. Thankfully, the Beetle Disposal Team (while losing points for hearing me yelling about bugs and not running to the rescue) managed to locate and "transport"* the beetle later in the evening.

Dear bugs: I realize you have a role to play in the ecosystem. All I ask is that you not play that role in physical contact with my person. I think that's reasonable. Also, if you could try to limit our interactions to the hours between 10 am and 9 pm, that would allow me to a) be fully awake and/or b) not have to think about you right before bed.
*where transport=flush down the toilet