It bugs me that the two plants in my office — where I do individual and group psychotherapy — have bugs.
It probably doesn’t bug you that you can’t see those bugs, a/k/a soil gnats. It bugs me that I’ve been trying for weeks to get rid of those bugs, which look like tiny fruit flies, to no avail.
It bugs me that I bought this “natural” bug spray at Whole Foods Market:
…and when I tried to use it, according to directions …
… that resulted in …
… buggy directions I couldn’t read, at all.
It bugs me when I can’t follow directions, no matter how hard I try.
It bugs me that what I could read in the directions — including many warnings about usage for bugs — indicated that Anti-Pest-O might bug eyes, lungs and other parts of non-bugs. So, I decided to bug neither my patients nor myself and I did not spray that bug spray in my buggy office.
It bugs me when I can’t use a product that others have bugged me to buy. It bugs me to have to return ANYTHING to any store, buggy or otherwise.
It bugs me that spraying the bugs with soapy water (not pictured) hasn’t worked, despite my being bugged by promises that it would. It bugs me a lot less to battle bugs with something as benign and straightforward as soapy water, but those bugs have seemed totally unbugged (and perhaps a tad brightened) when I’ve bugged them with soapy water.
It bugs me that once I allow myself to be bugged, lots of other things can bug me, too.
For example, litter left behind by buggy Bostonians bugged me yesterday.
Buggy marketing schemes and slogans bugged me, too.
Other directions I couldn’t understand bugged me.
Would it bug you if I listed even more things that can bug me, if I’m in a bugged mood?
- Not being able to photographically capture a big, yellow, beautiful moon.
- Not understanding how to perfectly operate new technology (including phones and cars).
- My inability to portray our cat Harley sitting unbugged on a table, because he always gets bugged and jumps off (the little bugger).
- Somebody wearing a graphic t-shirt, one buggy day after declaring he’s bugged by them.
- Buggy parking rules, around here.
- Things that make loud noises, like buggy construction projects.
- Difficult thoughts and feelings that bug people I treat.
- People I love to bug leaving (not pictured), like my wonderful and esteemed co-worker Mary, this week.
- My not being a good baker and therefore needing to end this blog post early, to pick up sweets for a going-away party for Mary today.
- Having to leave work early today to bug my dentist about some fillings that have been bugging me.
- My sleep apnea machine, with yet another mask that’s been bugging me.
- Having so many cardiac-related tests and appointments scheduled for tomorrow afternoon at a hospital (where they treat lots of different types of bugs), that several doctors, medical technicians and I will be bugging each other for about four hours.
- Getting bugged by buggily insignificant decisions, like which sign-in book to use at a 45th high school reunion (which might include bugs, because it’s near the ocean).
- The automatic and painful assumption that I bug other people, when I really don’t.
After all this bugging, maybe it’s time to de-bug this bug-filled blog post.
One of my patients did NOT bug me, yesterday, when she brought in this:
If you can’t read all those 18 rules of living by the Dalai Lama, please don’t bug me too much about that. I photographed them the best I could, at the end of a long and buggy day.
What music might I bug you with now?
The Beatles are suggesting that we not bug them, in “Don’t Bother Me.”
If anything in this post has bugged you in any way, please bug me about that in a comment, below.
Buggy and bugged thanks to all bugs and humans that helped me write this post and special thanks to you, no matter what bugs — or is bugged by — you, at any time.