Two words. Shark. Week.
I hate sharks. When I was in elementary school I saw Jaws and it basically ruined my life. I have had reoccurring shark nightmares ever since. That is around 25 years of living in fear. I am queasy just typing about it. Hubs know how I feel about the great white predator. He knows my distaste. My fears. Yet here I find myself watching something called Megalodon on Shark Week. W.T.F.
I have managed to avoid shark week for, well, pretty much ever. I feel there is not reason to devote a week to this. I can sum it up in 2.5 seconds. Just flash this on the screen...
HELL NO GET OUT OF THE DEEP WATER
CAUSE YOU GONNA DIE
Sadly, now I have to leave Hubs. Because the very fact that he subjected me to something called Megalodon, about the world's biggest shark that broke apart a fishing boat and now there are some fools toodling around the high seas looking for it shows he doesn't know me at all. As if my dreams are not vivid enough being pregnant at all. Thanks babe. I just wanted to sit here and drink my decaf and Pinterest. I found myself relieved when LadyB called me in for her nightly backrub (usually it makes me want to pull my hair out b/c I think she is asleep and she's not. Just waiting for me to get really comfortable.)
So if is the last you hear from me, it is because I had a heart attack in my sleep, having night terrors about floating in a beautiful swimming pool then having a shark that is 30 feet long coming out of nowhere and biting me. Cause they always get me when I least expect it, you know.
|What's that? This isn't real? No one cares. Cause it is horrifying.|
And makes me feel like this:
I hate you sharks. And I hate you shark week. And now I hate you too Hubs.