I’m home alone for the next couple of weeks; the Hub has gone home to the UK for a visit with his folks. I’m no good at being home alone. Especially at night when the slightest sound makes me jump, and all I manage is fitful sleep.
Last night, there was an enormous ‘roach in the the apartment and such is my phobia, I shrieked, ran into the bedroom and shut the door. Then I fretted all night that it would crawl into the bedroom and all over me. Most phobias are irrational, I think, and mine is certainly that.
Another aspect of the phobia is that I think of cockroaches as dirty so now I’m wearing footwear at home, even though I’m in pyjamas, because I can’t allow my feet to touch the floor or carpet because I know a ‘roach has been and I don’t want my skin to make contact with any surface that may have had a roach on it.
I can’t kill the roach either because if I use a shoe, any shoe, it will be forevermore tainted and I’d have to throw the shoe out. And worse, the roach might squelch all over me. If I have to clean the floor of squashed roach, I’d then have to throw out the dustpan and brush, or replace the hoover head – because they’d be tainted too. I did buy some bug spray but I’m hoping I won’t have to use it. Again, issues with having to dispose of the dead cockroach. And what if it runs around in circles as it dies a slow death? Argh. Contamination – all over!
What actually happened was that the roach ran under the fridge. I’m now living in trepidation of it making a reappearance.
If all that makes me sound completely certifiably insane, then chuck me in a padded room and throw away the key. Just as long as there aren’t cockroaches in the room.
Bestie suggested I call the concierge the next time the ‘roach appears. He wasn’t sympathetic at all. In fact, I’m certain I could hear his chortle even though the mode of comms was SMS!