As I was lying in the bathtub reading an old astrology book, I noticed one of those small, harmless beetles crawling up the wall near the faucet… you know, the kind you often find on the carpet, and you think it might be a roach but upon closer inspection it’s too slow and bulky. Anyway, some water droplets had splashed around that area of the shower, and as a result the beetle slipped and landed on his back with his legs motioning helplessly in the air. I watched him for a few moments knowing he would not be able to turn over on his own and would surely die without my assistance. Being a person with narcissistic tendencies, I have been known to lack empathy in situations far more emotionally provocative than this, but not the guilt that goes along with being conscious of one’s lacking of said characteristic. Not wanting to touch a bug, I grabbed my toenail clippers and carefully maneuvered the handle in a way that gently flipped him back on his feet. He immediately resumed his trek up the wall and….. continued to fall repeatedly, landing on his back again several times. In each instance I helped him turn over right side up, but once I used a bit too much force and almost crushed the poor guy. All I could think was that this whole ordeal was probably futile, as soon I would be taking a full blown shower with the resulting blast of water likely to wipe him out like the lost city of Atlantis. Fast forward a few thousand years and twenty minutes later, he somehow emerged from the shower completely unscathed. I noticed today, that he was gone. Wherever that little beetle was headed, I hope he got there all right.