Wake up call

One of the best ways to wake up, in my opinion, is morning sex. One of the worst? Hearing your 11 year old boy scream like a little girl because there's a cockroach in the bathroom.

The only reason why I miss having a husband? Because he killed the roaches. I know, it sounds really girly for me to say this, but its true. I'm not a fan of the roaches, as is most of the populous, but i hate killing them even more. i think its the whole crunching thing. And the grossness factor.

So after being jarred awake by the girly scream and looking up to see the genius naked cupping his teeny peeny, I try to get him to kill the roach. "No I can't, I'm naked!", he yells to me. So with my blurred vision due to slept in contacts, i get up, slip on the geniuses 3 sizes bigger than mine shoes (did I mention he's 11?), and run over to squish it. Now its my turn to scream like a little girl. The roach won't die. And it was probably the size of my hand. No exaggeration, I have small hands. So I twisted and squished as hard as I could until I was sure it was dead. Now the harder part, for me anyway, to pick it up and toss it. I prevailed and got it in the trash then made the genius take the trash out for fear it would put itself back together and come crawling out for revenge. Eeesh, I did more this morning before 7 a.m. then most people do in a day. At least it felt that way. Call me a drama queen, I don't care, when it comes to roaches, I don't fuck around. Ick.

So as much as I love living alone, I don't like being alone when I almost impale myself trying to take a shower. Alright, I guess impale is a little strong a word, but I was close to impalement of some body part. Let me explain. Sunday, after a long arduous day at work trying to recover from a gnarly hangover and seeing a movie I didn't want to see with a boy I didn't want to see it with, I got home and wanted nothing more than to shower and go to bed. So I shower. But I got as far as stepping up to stand under the stream of water when my left foot slipped out from under me. I went flying into the shower door. Lucky for me, the door didn't break, merely fell off the track, and I didn't knock myself unconscious on the sink. I did, however, slam my right shoulder into the door rather hard. Well, really hard. It was an imperfect end to an imperfect day.

My shoulder's okay now. Though I could do with a really good massage, I'm not a total cripple anymore. I guess I bragged too much about how I hadn't hurt myself in a couple of weeks, because before the shower debacle, I fell in front of a client on Friday afternoon when I decided to actually wear heels. Guess I should have knocked on wood.