Cricket, Cricket

This morning I was standing in my closet a very long time as I contemplated what to wear. It was going to be hot, so I was pretty sure I was going to wear a skirt. I had my hand on a hanger for a while, debating if that was really the skirt I was going to wear. And then my eye saw a black cricket sitting mere inches from my hand on a hanger.

I immediately recoiled my hand and stepped back. Now, if this had been a huge black spider I probably would've gone to work in my underwear. Somehow spiders are a lot more terrifying than crickets. When I see a spider, I immediately assign it the qualities of a villain--an evil thing out to make my life miserable, attack me at my most vulnerable moment, and possibly even kill me. Or at least do something very harmful.

This cricket was more of an annoyance. Why didn't Biscuit find it and eat it? How did it even get in my loft? Why would it want to be inside anyway? How do I get rid of it? I don't know the answer to any of those questions, but I hope it isn't still in here somewhere and starts making it's cricket noises while I'm trying to sleep.