So I was at Union Station this morning, waiting for the 704 🚌 to Beverly Hills because I gotta make this money. Right as the bus pulled up, a big ass, green ass beetle flew directly at me and hovered in front of my face for a few seconds before crashing into me. I swatted it away (or so I thought), and tried to play it off. I don’t panic around flying insects like I used to, but it’s still weird when they actually touch you. Anyway, I get on the bus, and it’s freezing (what else is new?).
About 25 minutes into my 45 minute bus ride, I go to run my fingers thru my luxurious mane (my Jupiter is in #Leo, hate on it ♌), and I felt something hard and out of place. When I brush it away, all I see is the same big ass, green ass beetle tumbling from the border where my hairline meets my forehead.
“Oh my fucking God!” I exclaim, halfway surprised, but also halfway embarrassed (no wonder that guy in the blue scrubs was staring so hard when he boarded!). Because I’m me, I immediately Google’d the symbolism of the beetle… 🔮
Spoiler Alert: just as the beetle managed to flip itself over onto its legs and crawl away, some evil passenger felt compelled to get up out of his seat just to stomp on my poor friend who was simply minding his own bug-eyed business. I guess if the resurrection symbolism of the beetle is true, then this brutal murder was to be expected, and so I trust that there is Life After Death indeed.