You may remember the first challenge in living solo: "The Spider Saga." The Spider Saga, while ultimately devastating & destructive, made for a fun little entry complete with photographic evidence of my insect battle.
I know: I should have included a photo in this blog post. If I had been in the right state of mind to put my photography skills to use, I would have taken a photo to include. As it stood, I was not in the right state of mind to breathe properly, much less consider photography. Had I taken a photograph, however, it would have looked something like this:
But it would have been hanging out at the absolute top of the only wall I can not reach by standing on a piece of furniture.
Listen, I can deal with your average centipede. I can deal those fake cockroaches. I can even almost deal with real cockroaches. I can deal with Daddy long legs. What I can NOT deal with are house centipedes that are literally the length of half my forearm, lurking in dark, unreachable corners.
So what did I do? Naturally, I called Joanna & sobbed. She offered to come get it. She advised me on ways to reach it. She sent me to find the night maintenance guy & ordered me to call her back. When the night maintenance man could not be found, I did the next most logical thing -- I found a neighbor.
I was still hyperventilating & crying as he answered the door. Although I really only asked for a stepladder or chair of some sort (my only chair swivels), he whipped out a step stool & a broom & offered to come tackle the monster himself. I wanted to tell him he didn't have to do it, but I was so grateful that I just sort of bumbled back to my apartment & let him in. He promptly hopped up on his step stool & killed the damn thing.
And I... kept crying. It's been an hour, & I'm still working on getting my breathe back.