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A Short Incident of a Cockroach in the Morning
In the interests of getting back into blogging let me give a banal incident that happened not 15 minutes after I rolled out of med. This is now half an hour ago.
As I was meandering through the kitchen, I killed two little bugs of unknown name and origin that were lingering by the garbage bin. No harm, no foul, right? You see little bugs, you kill them.
However, as I was making my breakfast (my appetite is still not up to par) I noticed some movement on the counter.
In the words of Cordelia Chase, "ANTLERS".
A huge, brown, disgusting cockroach was there on the counter in by the sink! To say that I bolted would be an understatement. Fuck my life.
Cockroaches, Jesus, I am fucking terrified of them and it's not even funny. I can't deal with them I can't. It ran away to the space between the dishwasher and the counter which I then sprayed with as much bug spray as I could without killing myself.
I really hope it has wriggled out of its misery by now, but I'm not going to check, because ew.
Ew. Ew. Ew.
I can't deal with all this shit. Or in other word, why is all this shit happening to me?
I still feel like things are crawling on me. This is a sign that I must move to a cooler climate, where they have these disgusting creatures in zoos.
Oh my god, it's on the house!
As I was meandering through the kitchen, I killed two little bugs of unknown name and origin that were lingering by the garbage bin. No harm, no foul, right? You see little bugs, you kill them.
However, as I was making my breakfast (my appetite is still not up to par) I noticed some movement on the counter.
In the words of Cordelia Chase, "ANTLERS".
A huge, brown, disgusting cockroach was there on the counter in by the sink! To say that I bolted would be an understatement. Fuck my life.
Cockroaches, Jesus, I am fucking terrified of them and it's not even funny. I can't deal with them I can't. It ran away to the space between the dishwasher and the counter which I then sprayed with as much bug spray as I could without killing myself.
I really hope it has wriggled out of its misery by now, but I'm not going to check, because ew.
Ew. Ew. Ew.
I can't deal with all this shit. Or in other word, why is all this shit happening to me?
I still feel like things are crawling on me. This is a sign that I must move to a cooler climate, where they have these disgusting creatures in zoos.
Oh my god, it's on the house!