Two words: Giant Cockroach
Now for some background...
In Sept 2002 I moved to Montreal to start my MSc. Since I did my undergrad in my hometown, it was my first big move, my first place to myself, first time (since being too small for it to be relavent) living in a big city (I grew up in a small city). My Mom made extra effort to make sure we found an apartment that would not present any problems for me. We thought we had done well. I moved into what seemed to be a well kept building with semi-respectable neighbours (though mostly students). Looks can be deceiving. I met the first cockroach one morning at 6am... it was crawling up my leg. I didn't know it then, but it was just a baby. Actually at the time, I didn't know what it was... just a weird-ass bug. Anyway, I managed to kill that one and a couple more that morning, and promptly threw out my new plant (lest it was the source). I met the next one a couple weeks later staring me down from atop my toothbrush. That one was I think fully grown for the particular variety (somewhere half an inch to an inch). I met various others on occasion over the next 9 months... then I moved. The building managers never dealt with the situation properly. Only after several months of chasing the damn things around by spraying individual apartments did they hire a real exterminator. Apparently the problem was a tennant two floors above me who must not have minded roaches. Ugh.
Anyway, needless to say: I have a problem with bugs now. Not that I was ever the kind of kid who really enjoyed bugs (I also have a bee/wasp/hornet phobia and I hate spiders and earwigs etc), but now I get to a point where my adrenalin is pumping I get super paranoid and twitchy and I absolutely cannot sleep if there may have been bugs around. Did I mention that I hardly slept for several months in that first place? No? Well I didn't.
So, the events of yesterday went something like this:
I didn't sleep well Saturday night for no particular reason. Maybe it was the espresso I had at 7pm, or maybe Hubby was being a bad bed-sharer and stealing my space and blankets. Whatever. Point being I overslept Sunday morning and we really had planned on going to church. When I realized our lateness I hopped in the shower and tried to get ready as quickly as possible... I just couldn't quite make it, and I refuse to go to church late (I hate it when people walk in 20 min late... you've missed half of it! it's disrespectful! to God of all people! ... sorry pet-peeve with my current church). Anyway, so Hubby shouted out "cancelled" and poured another cup of coffee and retreated to the couch. We ended up starting on one of our many little home-improvement projects and realized we needed more glue, so out we went. All's well so far...
On our return, as we walk down the hall of our floor, we notice a black spot on the floor near the baseboard... it's between lights, so it's hard to see... I ask "what's that??", Hubby says "nothing, keep walking". As I walk by I'm certain I saw it move... I say "it moved"... I've said this before about shadows, bits of leaf, a piece of a chocolate bar... so when Hubby says "I'm sure it's nothing" I'm sure he meant it. We drop off our stuff in our appartment, and I insist on investigating. So we go back into the hall and check it out... this time it definately moves and it is definately a cockroach measuring about 1 1/2 inches... maybe 2 inches.
Oh... God... here we go again...
Fortunately, even though this is a Sunday, the girl in the office was there. So we went down to tell her about our "discovery", and ask her if she wants to come see... she hesitated a moment, but came. Now, I have new respect for this girl. She seems like a somewhat waifish girly type, and I had my doubts about her abilities to deal with crises. However, she looked at that bug, looked at us, and said "oh no, that's just not normal"... in a tone that really said "oh no, that just shouldn't be... and then, get this... proceeds to try and stomp on it!. Anyway, I offered to go get my super-duper roach spray that I'm never without... you know... just in case... and I swear it took half the can to kill this thing... and I'm pretty sure it was dying anyway.
So now the real question is: are there more?? Was this just a hitchhiker from someone's tropical Christmas? Or maybe a special live dinner for someone's exotic pet that got away?
Not knowing, we went into lockdown. We cleaned everything. We established a perimeter with spray to deter them. We are leaving lights on 24hrs a day in at least the kitchen and bathroom. No dishes will be left un-washed. No water left standing. Still... despite our efforts, I didn't sleep. I maybe caught a few zzz's at 5:30am, woke up, and went back to sleep at 6:30am. Alarm went off at 8:00am. I'm so tired.
Did I mention the power went out for about 5 hours just after this?? That hindered our cleaning efforts.
Apartment-office-girl said she would call an exterminator today, if she couldn't get one on Sunday. She lives in the building. Despite her heroics I think she was distrubed... very disturbed. I felt bad for her, she had a shitty day too. I think she'd planned on sitting in the office doing some paperwork by her little Christmas tree for the day. The power outage also resulted in some kind of alarm fault she was trying to deal with.
I think I'll to church next Sunday. One Sunday year before last I thought it would be a good day to go to Ikea... that ended in the emergency room getting 4 stitches next to my eye after tripping on an escalator and catching my fall with my face. I've gotten away with no bad things happening on Sundays I skipped church, but I feel like there's a message here. Can't hurt right?
