Just Throw Strikes

Right. So tomorrow I leave for the field for one week. I am looking forward to it. Today on the other hand, well, we all have these days.
I get the worst cell phone reception in the history of mankind. It might, I say again, it might have something to do with the fact I live in the middle of a forest. But that is neither here nor there. Except that it is here. I am getting side tracked. I need to focus. Okay, so today I started receiving a shit ton of voicemail messages without receiving a phone call. I started to call these people back and it turns out that they left these messages like a week ago. So I have that going for me. Then, for the first time in about two weeks, my phone rings. Hooray. I look at the number and the area code is from my hometown. I think nothing of it and answer the call. The English language has not yet evolved to describe how bad of an idea this was. It turns out that somehow my old tumor got hold of my first ever cell phone number.
We exchanged greetings, you know, we talked of the upcoming plague and rivers running red with blood of nonbelievers, and, in my shocked state, I decide to continue the conversation. She informs me that she has her whorish little hands on some upcoming Cardinal tickets. Not in those exact words. She asks if I want to go. Now, I can't on account of my job and all. But I mean damn. It might be worth it to see a playoff game the last season at the stadium. Let me paint you a picture of how wrong this is for me to think. The last time I saw her she tried to stab me. "No one breaks up with me." "Well it looks as if that's not the case." And then came the knife. To be fair, it was nice to see her as for the year we dated I saw her for maybe six hours. The rest of the time she spent committing numerous felonies as she had/has a penchant for running drugs. Of the six hours I saw her, she slept for damn near five and a half, so really, it was nice to see her that fateful night. Did I mention that this was the second time I gave the old girl a go in my life? I am not too bright. We dated when I graduated high school for a bit and she left me on our one-year anniversary because, "I would rather do drugs than hang out with you." She lied a lot to get in there a second time, but I am sure I turned quite the blind eye to her horrible lies. She asked me if I am in fact driving an Acura these days and I told her the truth, that she must have me mistaken with someone else. As I think it's clear I drive a 92 LeSabre.
Anyway, I have a new fear. See, tomorrow I leave for the field for one week. This morning when I entered my car, a small moth accompanied me unbeknownst to me. I cannot find him to get him out. Now here is my fear. I have this bottle cap sitting in my car with my chewed fingernails in it. I fear that the moth will live off of my proteins for a week and become super smart and extra strong. Like a man-killing moth. Like me, only in moth form. Yossarian manifested in a moth if you will. All he needs to do then is read the instructions in my glove box, wait for me to return, konk me on the noggin, snatch my keys with his moth mouth hose thing and take off in my ride. Now you try explaining to a police officer that a giant moth stole your car and racked up parking tickets at strip clubs. Ha. Yeah. You fight that one. Good fucking luck. I have a better chance of inventing aluminum. Man, I hope this doesn't happen.
Have a nice week. Or not. Whatever blows your hair back.