I’ve been struggling with insomnia lately. Like for the last ten or fifteen years. So maybe not lately lately but it’s been worse recently. And it’s worse still on Sunday nights, which is weird since I don’t have to get up to go to a job that stresses me. But anyway, I got up around midnight, having watched The Walking Dead twice (and between Billions and Homeland on Kodi), to get some water and found the hermit crabs awake and oh-so-busy. King Fries was enjoying his pool and annoyed to see that I’m still alive. He peed at me with his eyeballs and chirped the piercing notes from the shower scene in Psycho because anxiety-related insomnia is apparently not enough of a reason I’m awake, but he thinks it should be holy terror. Power has gone to his tiny little crab head. Fil is engaging in interpretive gymnastics behind a giant structure (or he’s stuck and can’t ask for help getting out, hard to tell), and McFlurry is intently watching their food. If he’s waiting for live crickets or shrimp, he’s going to die waiting. Cheeseburger is buried because he’s an INFP crab and can’t cope and has no spoons and just wants to be left alone. I get it, Cheesy. I get it.
I watched American Crime tonight, and given their topic this season and Fries’ past hostilities towards laborers, I put a big strawberry in the wheelbarrow, so he could learn to appreciate them.
Update (next morning, 10AM):
I don’t think he learned anything. I also think he’s holding the other crabs hostage in the purple castle, sort of like the bad guys in American Crime are holding the workers captive. This has all gone so wrong. Fries is a crazy crab dictator. We should all be worried.