How To Laugh At Oneself

Okay, so I mentioned before that my roommate is a former nurse.  Knowing this, I went to her with a medical question a couple days ago.

"Do you have a thermometer?", I ask.

"Why?", she asks.

"Because", I answer, "I've noticed over the past few days that my torso and thighs are really hot to the touch, like they get when I have a fever.  I mean, I don't feel like I have a fever ..."

"Wait", she asks, "What area's hot?"

"My torso", I reply, "and my thighs, you know, right where the laptop usually is ..."

And she gapes at me, silent for a moment, and then bursts out laughing.

And continues to laugh for the next several minutes.

Yes, my first thought when I felt how hot my skin was, was that I had some kind of low-grade symptom-less fever in a very specified area of my body.  It did not occur to me that perhaps the reason that area was scalding to the touch was because my computer (which is experiencing massive overheating issues, did I mention that?) can be found in my lap from the moment I open my eyes to the moment I close them. 

Yup.

And when I close my eyes, by the way, happens to be at 4 a.m. every day.  I have fallen into a graveyard shift pattern, going to sleep right as my roommate, on the morning shift, wakes up.  She actually came into my room the other day at the change of shifts and started laughing, saying, "You weren't kidding, were you?"

It turns out this pattern works really well for me.  This is the first time I've gotten eight hours of sleep every night (or day, as my roommate points out) in, well, ever.  See, I keep telling everyone I'm built to be a Night Owl.  Screw your Circadian Rhythms.  This schedule works better for me than any other has.

So stick it.

Phlbbt. 

Now the only problem, besides the fact that the building regulations aren't as stringent here and therefore electrical outlets are few and far between, is the ants.  The damn, freaking, ever-present ants.  It's not the apartment, it's Trinidad.  It's a known point of wisdom here that you don't leave any food out on the counter, at all, ever.  For example, tonight I got myself something to drink, put the glass down on the table, went to the sink, washed my hands, went back to the glass, and found FOUR ANTS in it.  One crawling on the side of the glass, and three swimming, or drowning, in the water.

It's amazing how inflamed and homicidal a tiny little bug can make me.

So yeah ... I'm killing insects left and right, I can't recycle, and there's no organic food in sight.  This is doing wonders for my evolution, I'll tell you what.