I Realize I Don't Know the Meaning of "Aaagghhh" Until a Scorpion Almost Falls on My Head as I am Sitting Innocently At My Desk

Or, The Evening Calls for a Nice Big Glass of Wine Right About Now

When had it been? 10 p.m. straight up? 9:58? 9:55? It was 10:09 as I began writing these words...how long had it been since I'd leapt from my chair, pierced the scorpion with a gaze so fierce that it was as though I held him pinned to the floor while I shouted to Hugh, begged, pleaded, to please, please bring me the SCARP container immediately, as he called back he couldn't find it, where was it, and I was calling that it was right THERE, you know, by the kitchen light switch, you know, THERE, on the SHELF, I need it RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I CAN'T LOOK AWAY FROM THIS SCORPION OR, OR I'M NOT SURE WHAT, BUT I CAN'T!

Curiously, as my mind clears, a cloud seems to obscure my vision of the present and I go back, back, back to the innocence of that time about 20 or 30 minutes ago when I was just sitting there at my desk reading Go Fug Yourself and checking emails, when I first heard a curious scritching noise that I couldn't quite identify. I looked around the office, trying to peer through the windows into the dark night. Was it a cat wanting to come in? A lizard on the screen? A bird in the tree beyond? And then it fell! Like a bolt from above, like the drop of infected blood falling into the dad's eye in "Twenty-eight Days Later," like a scorpion falling from the ceiling, so did the scorpion fall from the ceiling practically onto my head. Even now a shudder runs down my spine just thinking of that drear moment.

But that was in the past, and I am fine now. I am just fine! It's a good day, a really GOOD day! We're sitting here together, he and I, companionably, side by side, I in my chair and he in the SCARP container next to the computer, and everything is just fine. Really. I know that's not really his voice I hear. It can't be, because scorpions don't talk, silly! No! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO......