By: Paige Riding, Humour Editor
September 1 (Day 1):
New year, new me, baby.
I don’t know what it is, but something feels funny about coming back to campus. I’m all settled in my dorm room, ready for the school year, but something feels — off. I’m not just talking about the COVID-19 stuff, either; it’s more like something is going to go south real quick. I bet it’s that physics class that Reddit said would be an easy B-Sci credit. Hmm.
Anyways, maybe it’s just the start of school jitters. I’ll try to keep a positive attitude.
September 6 (Day 6):
I think it’s going to be a great semester, despite the circumstances. My positive attitude is really paying off, I think. My roommates and I ordered boba and watched The Silence of the Lambs. What a classic!
Awe, a little moth landed on my page as I write this! How cute.
September 7 (Day 7):
Uh, this may sound weird, but I swear there are like four moths in my room just fluttering around. That doesn’t sound like a problem, per se, but they make me so uneasy . . . How did they even get in here when my window is closed? Ha, look at me, writing about moths. Who cares. They’re harmless.
. . . Let me just Google if moths can bite.
September 8 (Day 8):
I woke up when it was still dark out this morning to go to the washroom. I look out my window and all I see are moths! They’re everywhere. Streetlights just clogged. And why is it so smoky out? What the hell is going on?
I need to calm down. What could 2020 throw at me at this point that could hurt me any more? How could it get worse? It can’t.
Well, classes start tomorrow. Time to prepare.
September 9 (Day 9):
So, it turns out online courses fucking suck. I thought in-person tutorials were awkward when the TA asked a question and no one made eye contact. It’s much, much worse. I feel my morale resting at a zero right about now. At least there’s a cute little moth here chilling with m— wait.
September 17 (Day 17):
This is a warning to anyone planning on going to campus . . . don’t do it. It’s impossible to see. It’s like Margaret Atwood meets that one Shrek song that talks about the world being on fire. Yeah, it’s smoky as balls out. But on top of that are all the MOTHS. On walls, ceilings, doors, tables, floors — wherever you look: m o t h s. Dystopian novel content, man. It’s terrifying.
September 21 (Day 21):
My roommate Sara braved the cloud of smoke and moths to go do laundry yesterday.
She hasn’t come back since.
September 27 (Day 27):
I don’t have much time to write. The moths hijacked the campus. The lowered student population and campus security stood no chance. If you’re reading this, I have a stash of Oreos in the drawer under my bed. You can have them. Tell my mom I love her.
October 3 (Day 33):
The moths took over my Townhouse. I’m currently hiding in the adjacent laundry room. It’s littered with dead moths. All I have to eat are fabric softening sheets and Tide pods.
Wait . . . under those thousands of moths . . . is that . . . ?
October 27 (Day m o t h):
NO MORE HUMAN. ONLY MOTH.