A Horribly Traumatic Experience

Last night it rained, and this morning, it was damp. It was quite nice actually, there I was in my cute beret and chunky scarf, feeling very cosmopolitan and vaguely French*. The birds were all: "Hey tweet y'all" and the autumn leaves were falling, albeit damply. And I wasn't running late for work, which was a nice change. I was listening to the new NIN. I was finding it quite cheerful.**My morning walk through the Company gardens looked to be a pleasant one. Crazy-dog lady*** passed me by.

And then I looked down.

There it was, glistening pinkly, oozing itself across the pathway. An earthworm. They do this, you know, after the rains... Some bizarre instinct tells them to flee the muddy soil and head for the safety of...tarmac and concrete. Right. Not known for their intellectual capacity, they.

So, having narrowly missed mashing one long pink wormy with my right shoe, I became somewhat paralysed. Because there's never only one. I became obsessed with the idea that the path would be strewn with dozens upon dozens of earthworms, a veritable minefield of squoosh and subsequent guilt. it didn't help that entire sections of pathway were obscured by sticks and leaves, which can look very much like earthworms if you're having a bit of a Nutjob Moment.

So, it took me almost twice as long to traverse the distance to work. I almost had a panic attack. I felt very close to ralphing publicly.

I stood on an earthworm barefoot once. It wasn't very nice.

*in a Paris Fashion Week ; rather than an arrogant un-deodorised; sense.
**I find Year Zero quite poppy, for NIN.
***the dog is crazy, not the lady. His legs are too short for his body, his eyes are all googly and his fur is tufty. It's adorable.