I explained to her the situation and she let out her normal exasperated sigh when she is frustrated and told me she would call back. I resumed my steady watchfulness when as if the bug knew something was up, crawled out from beneath the desk and began to head towards me. It was only a bluff however and it quickly dodged left finding a safe pathway against the wall. From there it found the safe shadows under my bed. I backed up again, my new lookout point being the bedroom doorway. 10 seconds had not passed when the roach shot out from beneath the bed and sprinted towards me like a bug who had nothing to lose. Now common sense would tell me to charge towards my enemy and squash him mightily with my wheels, but instead I screamed like a little girl and fled.
The roach stopped in the middle of the doorway and set camp underneath the door hinge. The battle of the bedroom had been won and courage was my only hope to overtake the stronghold. Well I had no courage, so I sat and waited for my enemy to advance and then it was go time.
My mom called back and told me she was going to call the neighbor. How embarrassing. A 22-year-old young man must get the neighbor to come over and squash a bug. I hung up the phone reluctantly and awaited the arrival of my savior. Once again the roach sensed trouble and advanced into the living room. Here was my chance to reclaim my pride and win this war of species, but before I could react the roach slipped into the bottom of a potted plant and remained.
A couple minutes later my neighbor Joyce arrived and admitted her own fear of roaches. She shook around the pot for a little while and no roach appeared. We thought the battle was a stalemate until the roach made a dastardly mistake. It appeared from beneath the pot and retreated along the wall once again but there was no bed to hide under. Magazines flew, feet stomped, and exoskeletons crunched. My mind is now at ease.
I wish I could say the same for the rest of the day. I had a horrible case of the Monday’s today. I hardly slept at all last night because I was hot and I can never sleep when I’m hot. When I’m awake I want to be hot and when I’m asleep I want to be cold. Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn’t. Early this morning I laid in bed for about three hours until I finally called it quits on the whole act of sleeping. It would be nice if I could get up and read a book or something when I can’t sleep but instead I must just lay there and pretend.
The weather was cold, cloudy and rainy and all I wanted to do was nothing. Sit around, read a book, watch a movie, you know normal rainy day type stuff. Instead, Bob was coming over at 12:30 and I had pool therapy at two. I used to love being in the water so much and would go to the indoor pool and swim laps several times a week. Now that I’m a quadriplegic, I despise the water simply because it makes me cold. Usually more than anything all I want to do is not be cold, so anything that may involve me becoming cold is not smiled upon. But swimming is probably the best possible therapy I can do, so I suck it up and do what I have to do.
Like most people, I always dread Monday’s. Sometimes I can literally ruin my weekend because all I can think about is the start of a new week. I mean, I don’t have a job and I’m not in school so what is so bad about the week. This past weekend I tried hard to simply live in the moment and not worry about the future, but I could always sense this nagging feeling in the back of my mind, a notion of dread.
Of course now that the day is over, I look back on it and it really wasn’t that bad, it never is. But sure enough, next weekend will come around and once again the thought of another Monday will nag away as if there’s really something wrong with the first day of the workweek.