Attack of the Cockies

Listen to me people.

I believe in karma.  And once I read a book by the Dalai Lama and he said everything has a purpose and we aren't supposed to kill things.

So I don't kill spiders.

Or snakes.

I will only kill two creatures by choice.  Fireants...because they come directly from the pits of hell and are hateful...

and...

cockroaches.

See that big sucker on the far left?  Welcome to Florida.  Some people down here call them Palmetto Bugs...but make no mistake...they Cockies.

So when I moved into my new house (built in the 70's and recently flipped), I saw a couple of these.

Some were dead.  Some were not.  I knew I had to take action but would need to wait until payday, when I would take a little trip to our local pest control place and load up on whatever they told me to buy.

I should pause here to backtrack for you.  I closed on the house on a Wednesday, but didn't spend the night there until Friday.  Well, upon my arrival Friday I thought the house felt might warm so I padded across my new shag carpet to the thermostat and low and behold...it read 79 degrees inside, even though it was set to 74.  Hmmm...

Interesting.

So exploring I go.  The AC wont turn on.  Checked breakers and fuses.  All good.  Posted on Facebook.  Still not working after I try a few things suggested by all my friends who are experts in the field of AC.  Finally my wonderful realtor comes over and tells me what's wrong and to call my home warranty and get someone to come out.  I call.  It's gonna be 4 day.  Four days in the Florida heat while you house is full of people with good hearts working their asses off is a long time...but what's a girl to do?

So I wait.

Well on night 3 of no air, I wake up to find my bedroom ceiling leaking.  Sweet mother.  I panic.  Who do I call?  I know I am going to have to go upstairs and go into the attic.  And I know what awaits me.

Cockies.

I end up strapping on my flashlight headlamp, called my dad who is visiting my sister in Colorado, and traipse upstairs in my underwear and tank top.

My attic.

These suckers make the best gifts.

I needed to document.

Upon entering the attic, which you can see needs plywood, I see a cockroach perched on the ac unit...staring at me and twitching its twitchers.  I say to it "do not jump on my motherfucker.  DO NOT"...and although I cannot PROVE it...I am pretty sure it lunged at me a little.  Anyways, talking to my dad and tip-toeing through the death attic we basically figure out that the valve thingie is clogged and whatever.  

BUT, my dad did have me go outside to look at the AC unit.  I exited through the sliding glass door, still in just my tanktop and unders and wearing my headlamp.  It was probably around 330am.  When I tried to get back IN the house, the arm that secures the sliding glass door had fallen down and I was locked out of the house.

And of COURSE that was the same night I had locked every damn door for security purposes.  My dad actually started laughing at me over the phone.

Not helpful father.

Well luckily my bedroom window was unlocked, but it's pretty high off the ground so I had to drag a patio chair over and crawl through that sucker...ass to the world.

I made it back in, slightly defeated.

Well the next day I left work early to get the roach spray and doused the outside of the house, attic, and garage.

I am happy to report that the AC man came out and fixed it all up, and now the only cockies are see are dead ones.

Being a homeowner is fabulous.

I have also learned some valuable life lessons....LIKE....there is a little thing that holds that bar so it doesn't just fall down on you while you are half naked outside in the middle of the night.  Also, one should bury a spare key just in case.  ALSO, one should keep her bedroom window locked because it's easy for an idiot to crawl through it.

The end.