Pointless existence

No, this isn't a nihilistic depressive piece.

Every year at this time I am perplexed as to why daddy long legs exist. They are probably the most stupid creature on earth. They are not grateful, nor ferocious, nor do they appear to have any function. They lumber across the room laboriously and fly into the same wall over and over and over and over and over.

This latter point is why I both hate them, because it's really annoying, and spend a substantial amount of each autumn pondering why. I've probably blogged right here about it before. It's something I think about a lot.

Right now there is one hanging ominously above me. The one that was doing the wall jig has settled. Obviously they are both waiting for me to turn the light out so they can go for the most glowing thing in the room, which is going to be either my white nightie or my clock radio.

Oh. The mad one has disappeared again. That's bad. I don't like that. Ominously hanging above my head one is still hanging ominously.

Oh wait no. It's got some wall flying into to do in absence of its pal. Maybe it thought I was sitting ominously under it and was worried I'd spring up while it slept.

I don't see the point of them. I assume they are a valuable source of food for something important. Or maybe they are the most successful species on earth and they mock us for our ridiculous notions of normality.

Whatever. I eagerly await that time when one realises that even the spiders have gone for the winter. Hateful, idiotic mini beasts be gone.