At one point, I thought it would be fun to use my Twitter account to monitor roach activity at the Treehouse. Twitter is supposed to be “the best way to discover what’s new in your world,” so what else is new in my life that I can post about? What page I’m on in the half dozen books I’m reading?
“Friday, July 12th: one roach toe up in shower.”
“Saturday, July 13th: one roach toe up in closet.”
“Sunday, July 14th: live roach in living room, killed with Lemon-Scented Raid.”
I could come up with a size rating, 1 for thumbnail-sized baby, 6 for I live here now, too – you got a problem with that? If that wouldn’t get me a hundred thousand followers, nothing would.
One roach visits the Treehouse a day, like a vitamin from hell. Thankfully, the ratio of dead to live is 9 to 1. Still, ew. Fucking, EEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWW.
Recently, I found two roaches before I left for work, then two more when I got back home. Needless to say, a pity party ensued, woe is me, I’m better than this, is this the best I can do for myself, etc. etc, blah, blah, snooze. The candle on my pity-party cake was next morning’s kitchen kockroach. My only consolation is that these guests didn’t appear at the same time as two-legged guests.
Then, after 5 roaches in 24-hours, nothing. Not a single crawly. Every day I didn’t see one, the anticipation built. After a few weeks, I figured my downstairs neighbor has finally settled in, and the entomological wildlife has once again found its equilibrium.
This morning as I sat at my laptop - dawn hours away, the only light coming from my screen - the feathery touch of a six-legged mambo passed over my bare feet.
Gah. Huhblugh-glugh-huh. Ick.
I capture lizards and spiders and release them outside, but that roach couldn’t die fast enough. If you’ve never been Roached before, let me tell you – like the ghost of a mosquito buzzing in your ear long after you’ve killed it, the memory of that touch stays in your skin and makes your spine shiver all day. My murderous efforts only went unnoticed because Becky sleeps like a coma patient.
Scale of 1-to-6, I give that roach a 7 for sheer repulsion.