Ha Ha. Ha. No.

I've been living in a sitcom since yesterday. Last night as I was getting ready for bed, I kept seeing something moving out of the corner of my eye, but I could never catch what it was. I was thinking 'please don't be a spider please don't be a spider' when I finally saw what it was--a very speedy house centipede. I haven't seen one in awhile, so I was semi-glad to see this one (they eat spiders). I just hadn't wanted it to see it inches from my face on the bathroom counter while I was trying to pee. Then I got up and flushed, and the centipede panicked and ran off the end of the counter. I don't mean it ran to the end of the countertop and then down the sides of the cabinet; I mean it did a full-on Wile E. Coyote run off the end of the counter, hovered in the air for a split second waving its many, many legs, then plummeted to the floor. I can't believe these things are predators. I can only assume whatever they catch is even dumber than they are.

Then this morning there was something else on the bathroom floor (I swear I'm never peeing again). It was about the size of a grain of rice and practically liquid in its flexibility. Watching it try to navigate the plateaus of tile and valleys of grout was not unlike watching a puppy navigate stairs for the first time. And each time it achieved a new plateau of tile, it would run around in circles like 'OMG this one is surrounded by grout too?!' My bathroom is currently like Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, only ridiculous.