It was 3am on a Friday night when I got up to use the bathroom, no contacts in or glasses on. As I leaned down toward the sink to wash my face, I heard a strange, sinister rustling noise. I looked up to find that my face was inches away from a giant cockroach hanging out on the wall. I apologize for making you look at this photo, but if I have to see this thing, so do you.
I yelled, "Oh, God" a lot. I shed a few tears of anxiety. I trapped it between a glass
& a Tupperware lid. I flushed it to its watery death. I sent my landlord a frantic email asking to have my apartment bug bombed as soon as humanly possible. Then I tried to fall back to sleep, but I was thoroughly convinced that every bit
of noise & every feeling against my skin was one of its cockroach
brethren, come to exact revenge by crawling all over me until I died in a
panic of disgust & fear.
Today, I learned that you can't drown a cockroach. Today, I learned that cockroaches are attracted to water. Today, I learned that cockroaches come up through the pipes. Today, I have been terrified of using my bathroom, taking a shower, washing my hands... basically, I live in fear of my own apartment. It's all going very well.
Not to make light of this horrifying situation, but I think I may have watched too much Men in Black.