Slime in the city

I could take a photo to go with this post but I won't. Today when I walked into my office, a fate I had in my mind for a while came true. In a way, it felt both like I created what happened and also like I came into alignment with the universe (at the same time...but both). [edit: I'll tag this as #multiverse. See twitter.]

Anyhow, for the last three or so years, we have lived in a beautiful place up on a (paved over) hill in a tucked-away corner of Los Angeles called Cheviot Hills. And it is moist here. Our backyard is bricked over (nicer than it sounds) and I didn't understand why the owner would have decided to do this until I visited our neighbor, whose backyard abuts ours. His backyard is a ball of slime. It's just like what my front yard's hill would be if it wasn't in the son. Slimeball. Back to the story.

In the backyard, hard up against the fence dividing me from that neighbor, I have an office. I'm typing at my desk now. It's lovely. But even though it has walls, doors, screened windows, etc., it's a little like indoor/outdoor living. So I wasn't too surprised to see slime trails on the floor. We have similar slime trails in our front entryway some days. But I thought the trails were from snails. Or slugs. I've never seen a slug around here, but we all wondered how a snail could get through a small crack and get onto the rug of my office or the entry way of the house.

In any case, I always wondered what these slime trails were. Then, when cleaning out the front of the garage, I unearthed a HUGE earthworm in a pile of leaves. HUGE. I mean, bigger than the ones I used to pull up with a pitchfork at Grandma Thompson's farm. I literally jumped back and screamed when I saw this BeWormoth (as is the bewheemoth in the Steven Wright bit in Reservoir Dogs).

So now I KNEW what was making those squiggly, lines in my office. The individual lines meeting up in a jumble under the desk. It was worms having sex. Sigh.

Once I realized that I was doomed to the fate I mentioned. This all is coinciding with me starting to get up very early every morning and work in the office. I'd open the door, and have to step in before I could turn on the lights. All I could imagine every time I stepped into that office was how it was going to feel when I stepped on one of those worms. Today I found out. Yuck. Seriously. There is now a brown stain the size of a crayola on my floor. And the remains of a gian nightcrawler in my garbage. RIP big guy.