As most of my regular readers are aware, my job is full of people I don’t particularly care for. With few exceptions, the day is spent in a game of avoidance and passive-aggressive nonsense, as most of them have figured out I don’t like them. A few are even so kind as to return the sentiment.

I don’t mind it, though. I have a lot of work to do most days and don’t have time to be caught up in the chit-chat that goes on, which can at time suck up whole hours out of the day. It’s a relief more than anything when you walk by someone and they don’t even bother to say hi. Most people would be sad, but not me. It’s exactly what I want.

For the last few weeks, I have noticed a tiny moth in the ladies room. He is not much bigger than a pen point and could often be found chilling out in one of the stalls or on the mirror near the sink. I had been afraid someone would smush him, but he’s been there every day not bothering anyone when I go to the bathroom.

I somehow identified with the little moth, a tiny insect in a huge space that no one bothered with or tried to harm. I have been less successful with the latter, but still, I felt a certain kinship to him. It was nice to have something to look forward to whenever I left my desk.

Yesterday, however, I noticed him hanging out particularly close to the sink. I wondered if perhaps he was thirsty and that was how he sustained himself. I took great care to ensure that I didn’t drop water on his wings so he couldn’t fly. When I came back a bit later, though, he was on his back.

The poor thing, I thought, trying to delicately flip him over. His wings beat furiously but he wouldn’t (or couldn’t) turn over. I realized he was probably at the end of his short life and it was the weight of his body that flipped him onto his back to begin with. Within a few hours he’d be gone, I figured. I said a quiet goodbye to him, that it was nice to hang out with him these last few weeks.

As I went to leave, I saw another tiny moth on the handicapped stall door. Could it be? There was more than one? Or was the he a she and laid a single egg so another moth could keep me company?