Friday, October 29 2021
the plague, a dead anemone, and super worm civil war
Dear Journal,
Good morning, everyone. It's a chilly, overcast Friday morning. A moment ago, I heard Rodney click his bedroom light on, but with the exception of Rodney and myself the entire house is soundly sleeping. I've got an empty text editor in front of me, as well as a fresh cup of coffee, and after drinking tea for the last few days, coffee tastes especially invigorating. It's good to be back writing - I've really missed this.
Sip. A plague has invaded our house. My bout with this nasty bug began with a scratchy throat, which revved overnight into an achy headache, bubbling pressure in the sinuses, an unrelenting runny nose, and a deep, barking cough that hurts my diaphragm. But even in our family bubble, it seems like there are two variations of the same bug. Miles and I got it the worst. While I was rolling around in my sweaty sheets, my mind drifted to earlier this week when Miles kept us awake sniffling and crying.
But Rodney and Marissa seemed to get the lite version. For them, the symptoms stopped at a scratchy throat. Rodney claims that his soar throat went away after drinking a big glass of milk. The two of us sat at the breakfast table on opposite spectrums of the pain scale, and just before Rodney got up to get on with his day, he offered some advice. "Drink a bunch of milk, dada - it helps" and then he bounced into the living room to putter around with some toys.
This was a bad bug, but at least it's not COVID. My test came back yesterday. Following school rules, Rodney won't be allowed back in class until his test also comes back negative.
So I've had off work for the past few days. I would have written a journal entry, but my brain was barely functional this week, floating in a hazy cloud of boogers, discomfort, and fatigue. In fact, my brain was so zapped that at one point I caught myself sleepily watching Blue's Clues a whole hour after Marissa had put Miles down for a nap. So there's a visual for you - just a miserable, sniveling grown man watching Blue's Clues by himself in a dimly lit living room.
But I'm feeling much better today. I'm going to take full advantage of this Friday workday with no meetings. I'm going to stick to this cup of coffee, make a simple to-do list, and chip away at it until the afternoon, then maybe I'll reward myself with a few episodes of Blue's Clues.
I hope your week is going a little better. Before the plague invaded, Rodney and I got really into the Lego Jurassic Park video game. After staring at the disk jacket all Tuesday afternoon, I finally invited him to pull up a chair and play. The game is so silly. The game recreates all the original scenes with lego people, and it uses kid-friendly substitutions for the violent parts too. Marissa and I had a good laugh when one of the guards drops his hot dog in the t-rex cage, and while he struggles to pull it out of the dinosaur's jaws the head ranger yells SHOOOOOOOT HIIIIIIIIM.
In other news, I have some updates from our animal kingdom - a mix of good and bad. Our anemone finally kicked the bucket. Marissa thinks that the clown fish "over-snuggled" it, which is definitely something that can happen. I guess out of all the ways you can die in the ocean, a death from fish snuggling is one of the better outcomes.
The anemone wasn't really thriving anyway. It constantly wandered the tank, and since they've been known to sting and kill other coral on contact, this worried Marissa. In a way, the anemone finally dying was as much of a relief as it is a tragedy. Rest in piece, anemone. Your soul is free to wander in the endless ocean bed of anemone Heaven.
Meanwhile, Ducky is living her best life. She is still getting used to her spacious enclosure, but in the meantime she's happy to eat meal worms and cockroaches off the tongs from the comfort of her humid, mossy cave. Ducky is a role model for the lazy.
Remember the super worm colony? They're not doing so hot. In a last ditch attempt to find favorable conditions for them to breed, I moved all the beetles and worms into the same giant dark bin. They have finally broken out into a bloody super worm civil war between larva and adult. The last time I opened the bin to change out their food, one of the adult beetles was hoisting a fat form over its head, feasting on its insides like something out of a horror movie.
Worsening the situation, Ducky doesn't even like super worms. Marissa tried feeding her one yesterday, and Ducky shook her head in disgust. So just to recap - these worms are mean, they don't breed, they would rather eat each other over some foods, and now our lizard doesn't even like the taste. While tending to the super worms, I feel like one of the Bobs from Office Space. "What would you say... you do here?" I think their fate is sealed, and I have a grizzly weekend project ahead of me to deal with the cannibalistic survivors.
That's what I got today. Thanks for stopping by, everyone. Have a great Friday.