Slugfest

Those of you who know me well know that my home office is currently a corner of my laundry room. It’s not an ideal situation, but it’s workable for now. It’s quiet at night, since I’m on the other end of the house from the bedrooms, and it’s nice and warm in the winter, between my space heater and the dryer.

But as I mentioned, it is not ideal. Last night was a reminder for me of why it’s not ideal. I was planning some music for a show I’m doing with some friends on Saturday, and it was getting late, so I decided to turn in. As I turn around to put my guitar away, I gasped and jumped.

Why?

Because there was a five inch slug sitting on the doormat in front of the back door, not six feet from where I was sitting. It was oozing its nasty slugslime all over the doormat. I don’t know how exactly it got in, except to say that my house is fifty years old and perhaps not as airtight as I might like to believe.

(As I write this, I keep looking behind me to make sure another slug hasn’t snuck up on me.)

I know they’re not harmful to humans (unless ingested, apparently, and disgustingly), but still. It was gross. I don’t like bugs and creepy crawly things. I never went through that stage as a boy where I thought spiders were neat and interesting. All bugs (except ladybugs, grasshoppers, lightning bugs, and butterflies) have always creeped me out and given me the heebie-jeebies.

Plus, in reading the Wikipedia article I referenced above, I just learned that slugs are hermaphrodites, and I don’t go for that kind of of nonsense in my house. I mean…. yuck.

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