Katsaridaphobia

If you know me well, you know that I have a serious fear of roaches.  And apparently, the scientific name for that is Katsaridaphobia.  And apparently I'm not the only one who has this fear.  If you see the image below, you'll see what my google search sprung up...aparently there's even hypnotherapy for cockroach phobia.  (BTW, just writing all of this gives me chills.)  

I know it seems silly.  And I realize it seems like it's not possible, but I really am scared to death of them.  In college, my roommate, Micah, and I used to just keep track of the roach in our room until we could find someone who would kill it.  Or we'd wait til it got to a decent spot for us to spray a ridiculous amount of roach spray on it so that at least that way we could kill it from afar.  Silly?  Yes.  Serious?  Yes.  

But I'm coming to the realization that I'm going to be a mom in a few months.  And one of the things moms have to do is kill roaches for their kids (or else train their kids to be roach killers, which I fully intend to do; however, there will be a few years before it's ready for that).  So, I'm trying really hard to man up and get over my fear.

But this morning just made me plain mad with the casualty I had over a roach.  You see, I have this great mug that I keep at the office.  It's large and microwavable (w/out getting too hot) and perfect for a big cup of chai or tea (and pictured below, except mine was brown w/ creme type).  I got it back when I was working at Starbucks, and got a sweet discount. :)  I keep this mug in a drawer, so no one else steals it (it's happened before and I went 2 weeks w/out it).  Well, this morning's dreary weather was perfect chai sippin' weather, so I pulled it out, took it to the kitchen, and just as I was about to pour the milk in, I see the tiny, thin nasty legs.  

Yep, there was a roach in my mug.  And worse than that, it appeared that it was stuck to the one of the inside side's of it (I didn't realize it'd been so long since I'd used it!).  Although I typically prefer them dead, the reality of it all was very disheartening.  So, I do the most logical thing anyone in my position would do...I leave the mug on the counter, stare at it, and wait for the next boy to come into the kitchen.  Poor Dave W.  He did his best to simply dispose of the roach (is it terrible that I contemplated keeping the mug, and just running it 100x thru the dishwasher at the highest temp?).  But the thing was crunchy (eww...his words, not mine) and stuck.  

So, alas, I had to say goodbye to my favorite work mug.  It now sits in the kitchen trash can until the trash gets taken out tomorrow night.  Dang roach, you win again.  If I was keeping a life score it would be: Roach - 225, Molly - 10.  I know they die in the end (points for me), but the heart attack they almost give me is major points on their end.