Worst way to wake up ever

Have I mentioned how much I hate bugs? LOATHE them, actually. And the worst bug that ever lived? The cockroach.

Ugh. Just typing that made me shudder.

And now I will give all of you (the 10 of you who read this) the heeby-jeebies with the story of how I woke up Sunday morning.

At about 4:30 a.m., I felt something on my arm. Something kind of poking my arm. I wiggled my arm, and the pokey thing moved. Still half asleep, I slapped at my arm with my other hand and flung the sheets off me and jumped out of bed. I turned the lamp on, squinted around, and saw nothing. I pulled my sheets back and shook them, but nothing was there.

I started to wonder if I'd dreamt the thing I felt, but I was sure I had not. I took the opportunity to go the bathroom, and when I walked back into my bedroom, something flew past me and landed behind the trash can next to my dresser.

"Alright, motherfucker."

With that announcement, I went into the other room and got my roach spray. As I was walking back into the bedroom, the little bastard ran out from behind the trash can towards me. I sprayed, and it kept running. I spray-chased it into the bathroom, where it finally hit the wall and flipped over.

A brown one. About two inches long. Disgusting.

It writhed for a while and then got still. They do that to psyche you out and make you think they are dead when they are not. No, I have a roach-killing process:

1. Spray it again. Just for good measure.
2. Get a section of newspaper. (Glad to know it's still good for something.)
3. Throw the newspaper on top of the roach.
4. Put on a sneaker.
5. Stomp the shit out of the roach. You must hear a crunch for initial squishing confirmation. You must lift the paper and see guts poking out of its ass (those are actually its brains. I've done research) for second and final squishing confirmation.
6. Use the newspaper to scoop up the squished little bastard and then flush it.

Oh yes, it's dead and gone. But now, of course, I am on high alert. I couldn't go back to sleep after that because I just knew there were more lurking around. I didn't even get back in bed. I propped myself on the coach with the spray and sneaker where I could reach them and managed to doze off eventually.

And I'm afraid to go to sleep tonight, too. I mean, I guess it's a good thing that I'm aware enough in my sleep to know when something is crawling on me... but no. I don't want to wake up like that again. I felt violated.

The apartment office is getting a call first thing Monday morning to have someone come out and spray. Warning to all bugs, but most especially roaches: You come into this house, you are dead.