So the story goes like this:
I am sleeping, snuggled up comfortably on my inflatable single bed, dreaming of peaceful shores and relaxing breezes. I feel a delightful tickle on the back of my neck, like a cool breeze on a summer's day. I feel refreshed and peaceful. The tickle then moves to the front of my neck, on my chin, and then on to my face. It is at this moment the realization pierces through my sleeping brain that there is something alive and crawling on my face.
You never have seen something go from so inert and inactive to alert and active. You never have seen someone jump up five feet into the air from a prone position. You have never seen someone bolt out of their little room in seconds, the blink of an eye. When the light was turned on, the culprit was found. A very large coakroach sitting innocently on my pillow, looking at me as if to say, "What? Yeah, I crawled on your face. You got a problem with that?" Unfortunately for him, I did. Down the toilet he went, banished into the nether sewer realms for all time.
I didn't get much sleep after that, as you might imagine. I refused to step foot in my room again, so I camped out on the couch, trying not to revisit the sensation of those little tiny feet flitting across my cheek. It was a restless night.
I am proud to say, my friends and loved ones, that I took this as a sign from the heavens that something had to be done with my room. You see, in classic Matt style I had never really finished moving in, and there were still half-empty cardboard boxes thrown haphazardly into the corner. My roommate, who happens to be a licensed exterminator, says that there's nothing roaches love more than cardboard boxes. So the next morning I was up at 7:00 am throwing out boxes, putting things into sealable plastic containers and generally making my room liveable at last. While I'm at it, I've decided to seek out some simple decorations to put on the walls. I'm sick of this barren empty whiteness. So I guess I'm making the best of the situation.
I'm still traumatized for life, though.
I am sleeping, snuggled up comfortably on my inflatable single bed, dreaming of peaceful shores and relaxing breezes. I feel a delightful tickle on the back of my neck, like a cool breeze on a summer's day. I feel refreshed and peaceful. The tickle then moves to the front of my neck, on my chin, and then on to my face. It is at this moment the realization pierces through my sleeping brain that there is something alive and crawling on my face.
You never have seen something go from so inert and inactive to alert and active. You never have seen someone jump up five feet into the air from a prone position. You have never seen someone bolt out of their little room in seconds, the blink of an eye. When the light was turned on, the culprit was found. A very large coakroach sitting innocently on my pillow, looking at me as if to say, "What? Yeah, I crawled on your face. You got a problem with that?" Unfortunately for him, I did. Down the toilet he went, banished into the nether sewer realms for all time.
I didn't get much sleep after that, as you might imagine. I refused to step foot in my room again, so I camped out on the couch, trying not to revisit the sensation of those little tiny feet flitting across my cheek. It was a restless night.
I am proud to say, my friends and loved ones, that I took this as a sign from the heavens that something had to be done with my room. You see, in classic Matt style I had never really finished moving in, and there were still half-empty cardboard boxes thrown haphazardly into the corner. My roommate, who happens to be a licensed exterminator, says that there's nothing roaches love more than cardboard boxes. So the next morning I was up at 7:00 am throwing out boxes, putting things into sealable plastic containers and generally making my room liveable at last. While I'm at it, I've decided to seek out some simple decorations to put on the walls. I'm sick of this barren empty whiteness. So I guess I'm making the best of the situation.
I'm still traumatized for life, though.
Comments
Mom
Not pleasant at all. I personally never got a roach, though. Mine were all spiders...