aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

When I came home tonight, I had to hop frantically on my sidewalk, swinging my stethoscope wildly. You see, what I thought was a giant American cockroach was flying kamikaze style towards me, ricocheting off my front door, back towards me, and finally running into the wall and landing with a scratchy thunk onto the porch. Me hopping and swinging my stethoscope is a commonly used, yet unproven method of protecting yourself from said insect flying into your hair, and ultimately crawling into your ear where it would undoubtedly lay one million eggs inside your brain. As I stopped biting my tongue (proven way of not screaming at 11:30pm outside your neighbor's house), I was able to inspect the horror a bit closer. It was a huge dragonfly. I LOVE dragonflies! But even it scared me a bit with it's drunken flying. I ran as fast as I could up the steps, unlocked the blasted door, and shut myself safely behind it's wooden doors. Oh the humanity. I love New Orleans, and I truly do not hate most things. But I hate cockroaches. Especially when they send their dragonfly friends to scare me.