Going, going, GONE!

I hate killing bugs – even the gross, scary ones.
It’s probably because of my overactive imagination. I can’t help but wonder what it feels like for the bug to be squished. Is it instantaneous or does it have time to recognize the increasing pressure? There are days that I can feel that pressure. It’s like there’s a colossal foot closing down on me. I keep looking up to see what’s pushing me down, but nothing’s there. It’s almost like something from my warped dreams, except I’m awake, and usually in public.

Have you ever noticed how lying is exhausting, but still easier then telling the truth? A lie is safe – it’s reminiscent of story time and the land of make believe. Everyone should have one person they’re not allowed to lie to – if only to hold on to those last strands of sanity.
I think I’ll auction the position of mine off to the highest bidder.