I can't think of anything exciting to write, so I'll tell you about something gross that happened to me this weekend.

We bought curtains this weekend, and the curtains needed ironing. I found D's iron in a dusty closet, on a shelf. As I pulled it down, something small fell on me and landed on my shirt. It was the size and shape of a lint ball, and I rolled it between my fingers absentmindedly as I talked to D about whatever the hell I was talking to him about. At the end of our conversation, I flicked the lint ball onto the ground, only to discover that the lint ball was indeed, not a lint ball at all, but a huge, bloated

DEAD FLY.

Aggggghhhhhh!!!! I'm grossing myself out right now just thinking about it.