I like to think of myself as a kind person who maintains a sense of respect for all creatures, but um, yeah. This morning when I got back from the gym, I saw a cockroach making its way across the floor. Now, I’ve lived in apartments with cockroaches and other critters before (in Boston), but those were like, Napoleon-complex cockroaches compared to these NYC motherf***ers. I’ve been in this apartment almost 3 years, and this was the first time I’d seen one in my own place.
First I screamed, “Holy sh!t! You are a big f***ing cockroach!” Then I stepped on it. “Sorry it has to be this way.” I walked away to get something to scoop up the body in.
When I returned it was still squirming. “Why won’t you die!?” I yelled, and stepped on it again, harder. And that was that. I was shaking like a wet kitten.
So much for that whole “kindness towards all creatures” thing. I will never be barefoot in here again—or at least until the exterminator comes on Friday. Go figure I go almost the entire 3 years without seeing something, but hardly a week after making plans to leave, I see my first cockroach. When I called management about it, the guy on the phone laughed and said, “I guess it’s a good omen.”
Yep, time to move on. It’s been real, Hells Kitchen, but I’ve got somewhere else to be getting to. Apparently, cockroaches are also a symbol of tenacity, longevity, and the need for renewal and reevaluation in your life—all appropriate. In the past, when I’ve seen creepy crawly things seemingly out of the blue, I’ve later looked at it as a marker of a new phase, so I guess I’ll see. If nothing else, it’s a hell of a way to wake you up and motivate you to get out and enjoy the day.
How do you react when you see creepy crawly things? On a lighter note, how are you spending your long weekend?
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