Gag

i loathe worms.

i was properly and thoroughly traumatized by them in about second grade, when my teacher read us How to Eat Fried Worms. i am still sicked-out by this book as an adult. one of my middle school students in Philly once had it and i warned him it was super-sick and that he couldn't read it in front of me (i'm not that ridiculous, it was just a ploy to get him to actually read it. Manipulative Reverse Psychology--a great thing to use on developing brains.)

i'm happy about Springtime, but can't walk down a sidewalk without gagging. why, why, why do the worms have to hog all walkways?

about ten minutes ago i unsuspectingly ran outside to get the mail for my school. i was halfway down the sidewalk with no escape in any direction when i noticed i was surrounded by plastered worms. i tried my best to plug my nose and ignore my plight, finish the mailbox business and run back in.

it was bad.

then i was sitting in my office and the receptionist came in to hand me stuff. she asked why i was looking so weird, and i said i was afraid to put my feet down on the floor because i didn't want worm guts to get on my carpet. she looked at me like she looks at her children and told me to show her the bottom of my shoes.

see, when i freak out about stuff, people like to try and minimalize it, acting like i'm exaggerating or something. i know she was planning on looking at my shoes and appeasing me by telling me i was worrying over nothing.

i lifted up my feet, and she says, with concern, "OK, you have some worms on there."

i only knew the shriek i let out was inappropriate because i simultaneously saw the principal cock her head down the hall. i leaped out from behind the desk in as few carpet-worm-shoe contact points as possible as the receptionist suggested--"Go wash your feet in the snow."

i did my best to scrub. it's so gross. i only stopped when she came out to get me saying, "Can you please come back in here? Someone wants to sell us a copy machine."

elchchchccchhkckck.