So around 4:30am this morning, I awoke to the slight but very much there sound of something metallic scraping against something else. At first I thought it was the fan but I had never heard it make that sound before and it wasn’t a constant noise. So my investigation began...

I didn’t get out of bed, I kind of just leaned different directions so I could figure out where it was coming from. I’m very and at sleeping through noises, no matter how quiet. So I casually woke my boyfriend who had (as he later informed me) was in the middle of a blissful dream of kittens.

I quickly sourced the noise after that and suggested it might be coming from the metal waste basket which was on his side. So he leaned over and looked and said ‘yah babe there’s a huge cockroach on the side.’ Me, knowing his tendency to exaggerate about these sort of things had to look myself and I’m telling you that it was the size of my hand... maybe. Or maybe that’s just my 4:30am brain saying that.

Look I can handle spiders and snakes and centipedes and beetles but when it comes to cockroaches...

Naturally I told my sweet boyfriend to kill it while I dove under the covers and sewed myself in. That’s when he turned on the lamp and said ‘oh shit where did it go?’ And that’s hand I felt the six nasty brown legs on my foot.

I kid you not I jumped up maybe four feet and screamed, hit my head on the fan and started crying. Guys, I hate cockroaches. He starts laughing, because he loves me of course, and I ran to the other side of the room. He checked the covers and shook everything out and set a cockroach trap near where we first saw it. But I refused to go back to sleep because I feared the worst:

End of story: we never found it, but it was my last day at his house before going back home anyway.

Should’ve just burned the house down.