"The noun of self becomes a verb. This flashpoint of creation in the present moment is where work and play merge." - Stephen Nachmanovitch

Monday, July 27, 2009

Crouching tiger, hidden cockroach


I have a new roomie who has arrived in the form of a cockroach. It has been quite the morality rollercoaster deciding how to handle its move-in. I don't believe in harming sentient beings and as much as that insect/part rat scares me, I didn't have the heart to kill it. Instead I placed the creature under a clean, plastic container with a bowl on top until I figured out what to do with it. Several minutes later while I'm reading in bed I hear a noise and look over to see the little booger escaped!! Cockroaches are strong I realize, but it had a ceramic bowl on top for heaven's sake!!!! I heard they can live a week without a head and a month without food. It isn't everyday I have a superhero living under my fridge.
After avoiding my kitchen for a day and not eating, I couldn't go on this way. (I love naturally occuring rhymes.) I called the apartment manager and they brought a bug guy. Before allowing them into my apartment I needed to be certain they wouldn't kill it and instead create a barrier for it to enter my apartment again. They agreed and sprayed and I feel much better. Although I'm a tad worried after a month of hiding it will come out again for food...
Today I'm grateful for Liz, pancakes, and reading under a tree.

1 comment:

kymmcs said...

The other night I turned my light off to go to bed when I heard the loudest squeaking noise ever. It scared my dog so much he jumped off my bed and hid. I turned my light back on, and right next to my pretty pink lamp was a godzilla cricket. I thought about killing it, but I too hate killing (and the crunch his huge body would make gave me shudders), so I too trapped him in a glass and slid a postcard underneath so I could release him back in to the wild. Now I am far too lazy to walk down the stairs of my apartment to reintegrate him into a bush, so I put the cup down outside my door so he could hop out and climb down the stairs himself with his giant cricket legs. The next morning when I was leaving, I walked out the door and tripped on his dead carcas. Apparantly he did not want to reintegrate. So much that he died instead. It was very sad.