Bugs are Effing Disgusting and I Hate Them.

I just woke myself up out of a semi-conscious sleep. You know that nightmare where there are thousands of bugs crawling all over you? Yeah, it was that one.

EXCEPT I'M AWAKE.

Ok, I am not particularly outdoorsy. I'm outdoorsy in that way where you hop in your car, grab a cup of French Vanilla-flavored something, and go to a designated beautiful nature area and wander around with my little camera and (most likely) my little dog.

I do not like actual real nature. In fact, I have been known to use the word hate when dealing with either one of two things: chickens or bugs. Chickens are the devil's work. I have had some traumatic episodes with chickens.

Bugs terrify me.

They're gross and sneaky as hell. At least with a chicken there's a pretty big likelihood that I will know when a chicken is on me and have an opportunity to battle it off. With bugs, they're little ninjas and I never even know when I've been attacked.

And this is why I'm freaking out and, instead of sleeping so I can be a functioning human being for work tomorrow, I'm deliriously awake because it has been discovered that my little, lovable, fur baby has FLEAS.

I did not know anything about fleas prior to this little pup. My husband had to talk me off the ledge and let me know that I'm not about to become infested (though they CAN jump onto me-I'm gagging) but make sure to give him several baths, flea medicine, etc. etc.

What did this translate into? The dog has been given a military buzz cut and I have nightmares that fleas are jumping all over me and living in my eyebrows or something.

Eww, ew, ew, yick, so gross.