Wednesday, April 23, 2003
So I go to feed the mice last night, open the door to the mouse room, and turn on the lights. And three cockroaches scatter in the doorway. Huge cockroaches. Huge black cockroaches. Naturally, I do what any self-respecting 21st-century adult woman would do*: scream at the top of my lungs and flee down the hallway, yelling "Bugs bugs bugs bugs bugs!" J., downstairs at the time, said "Screaming doesn't make you safer." But he came upstairs to kill the bugs while I huddled in the bedroom. He really rousted the room - opened drawers, moved furniture, the whole deal. And he reported that he killed three cockroaches. Hopefully that was all of them.
I took a Xanax and a half and watched the Tonight Show until I settled down; then upstairs and to bed. I am not merely a bug wimp. I am bug-phobic. Oh well. At least I don't live in a society where I have to eat them. (Well, unless I go on Fear Factor.)
*Sarcasm. I'm sure there are women who can handle cockroaches. I'm not one of them.
[ at 3:33 PM • by Abby • permalink • ]