Well, hello there.
It's us. Down here. Under the dishwasher. And in the bathroom cabinet. And a couple of other places you'll find out about later. Us. You know, the water bugs.
That's what we are. Not much to worry about, huh? Water. Bugs. Such a nice, nonthreatening word combination. Kind of pastoral and relaxing. Like when a development company carves out new subdivisions - the ones that are half-empty nowadays, and dotted with foreclosure notices - and every street is a Shady Grove Drive or a Whisper Lane or Cypress Court. None of it identifies anything real - an event or a landmark. But it makes you feel good.
People are funny that way. You have these little tricks you play on yourself to deal with all that mess that's underneath the surface. Your credit card balance. Your age. Your health. What kind of life you're living. What kind of future you're going to give your kids.
We're kind of a symbol of the playhouse world you've constructed for yourself. All of it depending on the steady paychecks and negative results on those routine medical tests. Which you know you can't really depend on, but... If you started thinking like that, where would it end?
You could actually just call us "class anxiety." It'd be more accurate. But "water bugs" is fine.
Either way, we'll be here. Waiting. Like everything else in your ridiculous life.
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