The best week ever

For bugs.

I think I picked up some nasty karma from that grasshopper I killed earlier this week. The next day, we were attacked by a killer fly during our staff meeting, and then yesterday, yet another incident.

The scene: I'm sitting in a meeting room with three other people. We are all seated at a large conference room talking about work stuff.

The incident: About halfway through the meeting, I see something fall from the ceiling onto the table, landing with a noticeable "smack."

Could it be a leaf?

Maybe.

What about a piece of a ceiling tile?

Possibly.

So I turned my head ever so slightly to see what it was. It was a big, hairy brown ROACH!! In less than half a second. I had screamed, shut my laptop, shut my bag, pulled them into my lap and stood on my chair. Serious cat-like reflexes here, my friends.

No one else in the room saw it until I was standing, screaming and flailing in the general direction of the roach. I was finally coherent enough to tell the others that there was a roach in our room, and it was on the offensive. It was taking no prisoners.

Finally, one of the guys in the room tracked it down and killed it. I plugged my ears so I couldn't hear the crunch.

What is the deal? Is my life going to end up like that one part in the Indiana Jones movie (Temple of Doom?) where they're trapped in a room full of bugs and they have to reach into a bug-laden crevice to turn the knob and set them free? Folks, I'd die. I'd just keel over right there and eventually, the bugs would eat my body, because there's no way in heck I'm surviving anything like that.