i’m going to admit to a somewhat creepy/terrible experiment that i have going on in my bathroom over the last week.
i woke up at about 4am either monday or tuesday morning and went to the bathroom, only to find a 2 and a half inch long cockroach on my wall. i didn’t know exactly what to do about it, seeing that i don’t have much in my bathroom other than a toilet and a tub, so the first weapon type object i grabbed was my plunger. as he ran across the floor at speeds that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, i managed to plop the plunger down on top of him. for half a second i thought i had won, until the thought occured to me that there is still a live cockroach under the plunger, and getting him out from under there meant releasing him. at this point in time, i was far too tired, and decided i’d go to bed and deal with him in the morning.
in the morning i saw the plunger in the middle of my bathroom and for a second wondered why. quickly remembering my little prisoner, laziness once again took over, and instead of doing something about it, i just slowly scooted the plunger back into it’s normal position, leaving the cockroach under there. typing this out, i’m starting to realize just how sick this was. so i decided i’d figure out how long he could live under there, without food, or trash, or whatever they eat.
a couple days past, and i lifted up the plunger, and was amazed to see him there, twitching his anntanneas, and about to run before i dropped it back down. i guess this guy would be with me longer than i expected.
a few more days past, and they ended up being a week, and just moments ago, i lifted up the plunger to see a sight not all that uncommon: cockroach on it’s back, legs folded up, dead.
in a weird way, i had some sort of odd respect for the guy. i mean, looking back, i feel really weird doing it, not that smashing it with toilet paper would have been all that much better, but i imagine starving to death is not a good way to die. even if you are a cockroach. i think the thing that struck me the most is the eerie visual similarity of the cockroach on his back and the way we bury our dead. he lay under my plunger, on his back, arms folded almost as if at somepoint, he accepted his fate, turned over, crossed his arms and legs, and gave up the ghost. perhaps i’m odd for feeling this way about a cockroach…perhaps it’s odd i did this at all. i’m just amazed that this is the kinda stuff that goes through my head at night.