Babies, Roaches, Vandalism & Pussies @ Wednesday, Jun. 09, 2004

Last night I dreamed that I was pregnant. Beyond Just Pregnant, I had the baby in the dream. My mother was there and I remember that it hurt but I also remember thinking that it didn't hurt as bad as I thought it would. My Girl Parts were torn in the process and then stitched back up, poorly, with thick black thread. That part of the dream I remember distinctly.

Then my baby - a boy, I think - became a Sitcom Baby, i.e. he disappeared. I only remembered that I had him when I travelled to my elementary school where Bob Dylan was holding several people hostage in the gymnasium. Then I suddenly remembered I had a kid and was upset that I had forgotten to bring photos of him.

IRL, I found a roach in my bathroom last night and I'm very upset about it (you know, when people say, "I'm very upset," it doesn't sound very convincing, does it?). I can't believe I didn't dream about GIANT roaches last night.

I went into the bathroom to take out my contact lenses and there was Mina, my little black cat, sitting by the doorway, so dainty* and innocent looking. When she moved to rub up against me, something moved from beneath her, something little and hard and brown.

A fucking roach.

At least it didn't rub up against me.

It skittered across the floor in that creepy way that only a cockroach can skitter - I screamed, grabbed a handful of toilet paper, smooshed it and flushed it down the commode (is that how you spell that? I love that word but have never actually written it) where I'm sure its living now...trying to claw its way up so that it can crawl across my face - or worse - as I sleep.

I'm not sure what to do. Should I alert my landlords (who are probably creatures from Mimic who actually sent the roach into my apartment because my water bill is late) or should I wait to see if I see another one before calling which would lead to them spraying and me having to get rid of the cats for a day (read, pain in the ass)? After all, the disgusting creature probably travelled home - alone, hopefully - with me from the grocery store which is revolting but most likely true.

In other apartment news, someone wrote a letter and taped it to everyone's door last night. I think it might have been my neighbors but - I hate to say this - it was incredibly, incredibly well written so I doubt it was written by them. Anyway, the letter recounted a break in we had a week or so ago and also how my neighbor found her car completely wheeless two Saturdays ago. It called on management to put locks on the outside doors and make sure all lamps and hallway lights are in good working order (half of the outside lamps are constantly out) amongst other things. The letter pointed out that our apartment complex looks appealing to vandals and if they were to take a few precautions it would look much less appealing, therefore causeing the crime rate to go down - which I totally agree with.

The letter also suggested that we all get to know one another, look out for one another. I guess someone asked the four boys who took my neighbor's tires what they were doing and they merely said they were working on the car. At three or four in the morning? Because I kind of know my neighbors or am at least familiar with them, I would have probably thought that was strange and might have knocked on their door had it not been too late - or called the police.

I don't feel very safe in my apartment at all anymore. I mean, there are bad guys inside and outside now.

*Shudder*

*If I do start a small jewelery making business I've decided that I will call it Dainty Cat Designs or maybe just Dainty Cat. Two things I don't like about it: one, I think it will always remind me of The Night I Found the Cockroach and two, I really want to call it Dainty Puss Designs because the word "cat" just doesn't sound right but "puss" is close to "pussy" which does mean pussycat after all and is a word I really like but...well, you know, it unfortunately sounds kinda dirty....