Thanksgiving Horror

Last night I got two holidays worth of experience in one go. On the first end, I had a lovely evening at a friend's place doing the Thanksgiving thing with my surrogate family with turkey burgers and a movie.

When I got home, at roughly 1:30am, ready to cuddle into bed and wait for tomorrow, I unpacked my laptop and went to plug it in, only to see a MASSIVE EFFING ROACH right on the outlet. This sucker looks like it's been living under a tree for three hundred years, I mean, it's like a football, and roaches are my irrational fear, no question, the thing I'm most afraid of.

So I back up, you know, survival instinct, and it crawls after me. It can ... well, not smell fear, because I'm pretty sure it doesn't have a nose, because it's a roach and it's effin gross, but it want's to mess with me, that's apparent, so I start throwing shoes at it. I throw the ballet flats, I throw the tattered exercise tennis shoes, I throw a zip up boot, but this guy is elusive, and doesn't get hit.

He decides to punish me by crawling into my bed.

Not. Okay.

So, eventually there's the final battle involving me, my sheets, and my left foot's chuck martin sneaker. Ew.

By this point, it's probably around two in the morning, but my roommate's television is on, and her boyfriend's car is in the yard. It's an emergency, so after some knocking and pleading, Joe, my roommate's boyfriend, does the hero thing and gets the roach. He then retreats back to bed.

Immediately, the sheets are ripped off, the washing machine is fired up, and some Xanex are consumed.

Shaking and slightly hysterical, I grab an Evanovich novel and pull up an online tetris page, waiting for the pills to kick in and the washing machine to wrap up.

ONE HOUR LATER

So, I'm walking into the kitchen to move my sheets into the dryer, and I frighten one of the mice living in the house. It panics, and runs right onto one of those sticky traps and does not get stuck. It doesn't get stuck, but it heads for the fridge, and I know what's about to happen.

I'm already running back toward my room when there's a giant snap, and the mouse starts making horrible screeching noises. Then I start making horrible screeching noises, and force Joe to come out of my roommate's room again, but by that time, the mouse, injured and pissed off, has already retreated.

So much for Xanex.

Once again, shaking uncontrollably, I put the sheets in the dryer and come back into my room, attempting to play Tetris, but really fairly certain I'll never sleep again. At one point the mouse in question ran into my room, and I hid by leaning back so I didn't have to see it jump into the hole in my wall where the cable outlet used to be.

Eventually, I slept, but not well. Someone want to explain to me why all of this needed to happen in the same night?