It's 4:30am

and I'm awake. I had to write this tonight because I knew if I waited until morning I would lose that heat-of-the-moment feeling.

I'm a pretty heavy sleeper. But I suppose like moms have that 6th sense of hearing their children utter "momma" when they can be 600 miles away, I have something like that I like to call a "bug detector".

So I got in bed tonight, read for a little bit, turned out the light and went to nightnight land. All was well in nightnight land. But because of a gene I inherited from my father, I sleep with one arm over my eyes and my elbow pointed to the ceiling. Imagine my shock and horror when I wake up to SOMETHING CRAWLING ON MY ARM. Without any clue what it was, I flung my arm over toward the other side of the bed, hopefully launching whatever it was off. Then I sit up, heart pounding. Granted it's pitch black, but my eyes are adjusting, but I don't have my glasses on so I can't see JACK...and frankly I don't want to see what I just flung across the room. If you know me, you know my deathly fear of spiders (all bugs really). So I finally am able to see my floor enough from the moonlight coming in the window to walk across and turn on the big light. What do I see? The mother of all mother of ROACHES crawling across my end table next to the bed. So I grab a flip flop, not sure why they don't pack much of a punch, and proceed to swat at it, only causing it to jump ONTO MY BED. I'm sufficiently freaked out now, fully awake, and ready for battle.

To make an even longer story not quite so long, I still don't know that little blankety blank thing is. Last I saw of it, it had crawled into a bookbag laying on my floor next to my old computer desk. I had decided last night that I'd go back to work tomorrow (err, today?) since I was feeling better, but I'm starting to think I need to stay home and clean. I have plans all day Saturday and don't want to put it off until Sunday afternoon.

Anyway, I'm not done. Are you still with me?

I decide to spend the remainder of the night on the couch in the living room. Normally I'd go get in the bed in the guest room, aka Laura's old room, but no one's slept in there in quite a while I'd I'd be almost certain to have some guests in that bed. Anyway. I walk into the living room, turn the light on to make sure the couch is cleaned off, and SOMETHING CRAWLS ACROSS THE FLOOR IN FRONT OF ME. It's not black, not crunchy from what I can tell, but resembles NOTHING of his brother, cousin, whatever they got to play in the commercial. That's right folks. A gecko. I couldn't make this stuff up.

So I know they're not harmful and everything, and I'd just love to catch that bad boy to put him outside to stop my pounding heart, but he's very startled and runs behind the TV cabinet and I've yet to see him again. But then again, he's a gecko, and for all I know he's disguising himself as a living room couch at this very moment. If you see no new posts from me in a while, you'll know he got me. Or the roach did. Or I had a heart attack.

And the even funnier thing is, one of the blogs I read recently had this post, and I laughed at her because I had never even heard of one of those things before. See if I laugh at a bug situation again.

Oh, did I mention I had been sleeping with my mouth open?