I am not an insect pacifist. Kill them. KILL THEM ALL.
Somewhere, in the attic of our beautiful house, is a wasp's nest. It's been cold, so the wasps have gone into hibernation, but because it's Texas, it's gotten warm again and they woke up. And somehow, in their cunning little waspy way, they have discovered an entry to the interior of the house. They're still moving really, really slow, though. Like they're drunk. Last night I found one on the comforter OF MY BED (OF MY BED!!!!!!!) and freaked right the crap out. Nolan was there and got that one, but there have been others... one that I trapped in the plantation shutters to await his coming home from work, and one I sucked up with the vacuum. I have had, as they say, E-FREAKING-NOUGH. And I am not kidding. *shudders and screams and flails* I just sent this email to my husband.
Carrie Leigh to Nolan - Subject: This is ENOUGH THISISENOUGH! 7:58 AM
I just killed another damn wasp. You MUST do something about it this weekend. HAVE TO. THIS IS NOT IN MY JOB DESCRIPTION.
Nolan to me 8:02 AM
Okie Dokie. *********** I DON'T THINK HE GETS THE FULL MEASURE OF MY CAPSLOCKY-NESS ABOUT HAVING WASPS IN MY HOUSE!!!!!!
In other news, I have a modest, yet respectable 10,523 words for nanowrimo. And 6 nablopomo posts down. Have a good weekend, all.