psycho shower
Friday, 30 December 2005 10:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
freckles_and_doubtSo, I'm standing in the shower last night, allowing the combination of hot water and painkillers to drift me into a gently upright somnambulist state, like a horse asleep on its feet, when I suddenly notice that there's a moving shadow on the shower curtain. Something about 10cm long is crawling up the fabric on the outside. I freeze, and stare at the manifestation in a glazed, stupid sort of way, while it climbs steadily up the curtain and pokes its antennae over the pole at the top. At this point it reveals that (a) it's not actually 10cm long, that was its shadow, (b) but it's a good 6cm long, and (c) it's a giant cockroach.
While I desperately try to call in a full air strike by the pure telepathic power of panic, the wretched creature proceeds, with a jaunty stride, along the top of the curtain pole, onto the top of the shower wall, over it, and vanishes. After checking my horribly vulnerable naked self obsessively for cockroaches for about ten minutes, I emerge from the shower and look for alien insect infestations. The giant cockroach of threatening death has clearly hailed a passing taxi and departed, because there's no sign of it.
I spend the rest of the night checking my duvet for cockroaches, keeping all limbs firmly under the covers, and leaping to horrified wakefulness at the slightest sound. I draw a tactful veil over the unhappy fate of the hapless christmas beetle who dive-bombed the duvet, with an audible "whap!" sound, at about 2am. Other than that, no signs of insect life - or, for that matter, air strikes.
I feel a little frayed this morning.
While I desperately try to call in a full air strike by the pure telepathic power of panic, the wretched creature proceeds, with a jaunty stride, along the top of the curtain pole, onto the top of the shower wall, over it, and vanishes. After checking my horribly vulnerable naked self obsessively for cockroaches for about ten minutes, I emerge from the shower and look for alien insect infestations. The giant cockroach of threatening death has clearly hailed a passing taxi and departed, because there's no sign of it.
I spend the rest of the night checking my duvet for cockroaches, keeping all limbs firmly under the covers, and leaping to horrified wakefulness at the slightest sound. I draw a tactful veil over the unhappy fate of the hapless christmas beetle who dive-bombed the duvet, with an audible "whap!" sound, at about 2am. Other than that, no signs of insect life - or, for that matter, air strikes.
I feel a little frayed this morning.
