In the bathroom in the middle of the night a creepy crawly with many legs skitters across the wall at the flip of the switch. Sitting there pondering how to get rid of it I jump, thinking I saw another. I brace my feet against the bathtub, afraid to put them down. No question: it has to go.
I look behind the door and there it is, hiding underneath a red washcloth emblazoned with a C. I try squashing it through the cloth with my foot but I'm too timid. It will have to be the vacuum.
I plug it in and connect the hose extension in my bedroom, so as not to startle the bug. I hope it hasn't disappeared; I don't want it running around my apartment. But it's still there behind the bathroom door.
I mercilessly suck up the offensive bug with the vacuum hose, and then clean all the corners of collected hair and dust to suffocate it. Then, unwilling to chance that it might still be living, I vacuum the fuck out of my bedroom. 1:45 in the morning, and Suzy Homemaker is hard at work.
Once I finish vacuuming I'm faced with a dilemma. I need to empty the canister, but it could still be alive in there. It looked pretty tough. I could flush it down the toilet, but I just cleaned it today, and what if it escaped onto my hand. The trashcan in the kitchen is the other option, but again , what if it's still alive? No, the only real option is emptying the canister into the dumpster outside. I don't want that gross bug anywhere in my house.
Outside in my pajamas and flipflops I feel exposed. I finish up as quickly as possible, shaking the dust trap to be sure the offender isn't clinging to the inside.
When the deed is done I go back inside, put the vacuum away, wash my hands, and get back into bed. My room is bug free, and I still can't fucking sleep.
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