Today marks exactly 2 years since I moved to Chicago from Grand Rapids, MI.
I literally just realized that as I started to type out a completely different start to this post. And I thought, "Huh. I've been here exactly 2 years." So, I had to redo my intro to state that fact.
See, I've lived here 2 years and today I had one of those moments that made me think, "Yep, I live in the big city." This morning, after taking my morning shower, I reached to turn off the water and there it was. A cockroach. Wriggling it's little antenae at me from behind the faucet in the tub. And my God did I scream bloody murder.
I'm still shuddering. I'm not sure typing this was a good idea. I can't stop seeing his little face, mocking me.
Anyway, I made John wake up and get out of bed on his day off to come take care of our disgusting house guest. That's right, I can't handle bugs. But he's gone now. He got flushed. But I can't shake the feeling that the apartment is crawling in them. Ew.
That makes me an official Chicagoan, right? Having a cockroach in the bathtub makes it so I can call myself that. That, and my driver's license. And my lease. And the multitude of hot dogs I've eaten in the past 2 years.
I can't stop thinking about that scene in Enchanted where Amy Adams' character has cockroaches helping her clean. They're so nice! blech. ew.
Maybe I should stop thinking about this and isntead make a list of all the nice things I've had happen in these past 2 years. I'll think about that for later.