This is an edited version of one of the first things I posted on Substack more than a year ago. When I first posted it, I had less than twenty subscribers, and since that number has substantially grown, I assume most of you haven’t read this piece. To those of you who have, my deepest apologies. I’m reposting it now for two reasons: 1) I like the piece; I think it’s fun and light, while also being painfully true. And 2) I am currently working on a big project that I’m excited to share, but it’s taking longer than I had planned. So, stay tuned for that! And until then, I hope you enjoy today’s piece.
I am stuck. Rendered catatonic in my kitchen. Frozen by a fear that has always haunted me. But why now? Why did this have to happen while I’m cooking my eggs? And when I’m in my underwear no less – I feel so vulnerable. So exposed. So unprepared for battle.
And so here I stand. Flip-flop in hand. Staring down this beast as it’s beady eyes stare back at me with the demonic emptiness of a creature that surely would survive a nuclear apocalypse. What feels like hours pass in a matter of seconds as I become transfixed in horrified fascination at the uncanny head movements of this hellish creature.
I have to kill it. Now. Before it scurries off. And before my eggs burn.
But I can’t.
Try as I might. No matter how hard I will myself to smoosh this demon beast with one fatal thrust of my flip-flop – I can’t bring myself to do it.
I can’t kill this cockroach.
I'm glad you reposted this Michael as I missed it the first time. This is very well done! The brevity and vivid descriptions, then tying it all back to not wanting to burn the eggs. Excellent writing.
This is incredibly relatable—the juggling tasks in the kitchen part and the unwanted, apocalypse-resistant visitor part. Thanks for bringing it back and highlighting it again.
I’m excited to hear about the big project!