The exterminator did NOT come the other day, he came today. So all day today I’ve been bagging and vacuuming and doing laundry and all day long I’ve been resisting it, dragging my heels, wanting it to be different. I want it to be one way, but it’s the other way. Ain’t nothing I can do about it. Tomorrow first thing I’ve got to shower and then strip my bed and bag the bedding and then spend 45 minutes vacuuming it. After I vacuum the bed I have to double bag the contents of the vacuum before I trash it and then I need to clean out the canister thoroughly. I have to do that the day after tomorrow too and the day after that and the day after that and the day after that. I don’t want it to be that way, but it is.
And it could be worse. Oh my God it could be so much worse. I could be this poor security guard getting on the wrong side of Marlo doomed to be killed by a nail gun and walled up in an abandoned building. I could live in the Philippines and be out of water and relatives. Jesus. I could go on with all the multiple ways it could be sooooo much worse but it’s obvious how lucky I am, comparatively. It’s so ridiculous it’s embarrassing. I’m mad at myself for complaining for a second and I’m really irritated that I’ve wasted any time at all resisting it.
Surrendering to your fate is almost always the first step to doing anything about it.
Stupid fate. Oh, I don’t mean that. I love you, Fate. No, really. Truly, deeply, madly. Now hold still whilst I hit you with a shoe until you’re black and blue, you little dickens.