because the ickiness of cockroaches is neverending

It's no secret that I can't handle cockroaches. As in, lose-all-self-control-and-freak-out can't handle them. So the fact that I haven't seen any bugs aboard hadn't escaped my notice.

I remember the legendary cockroaches in Hawaii in family lore. You know, the ones that crawl up the toilet after you flush them or don't die under the weight of bricks. And the flying ones in Florida when my grandparents lived there were also noted. College in Arizona was a very stressful time for me in the bug department. Sewer cockroaches in the house and ones that scurried across our paths at night served to strengthen my disdain for them. And then there's our new home in Florida. The cockroaches there freak me out- just ask Peleke. My cortisol levels just shot up thinking about it.

When we had our boat in the Caribbean, shoes were absolutely not allowed aboard. They had to stay in the dinghy. Same went for anything cardboard- boxes, coasters, etc. Cockroaches are tricky little devils and can easily get aboard. And once they do, that's the end of the story. So yes, I was enjoying the cockroach-free Africa Mercy. Was. My new bunkmate informed me that the bathroom near the gangway has monster ones living in them. Funny since I had noted that particular bathroom's lack of the horrid creatures.

So when I went in there this evening (sorry KT- TMI?), I looked all around before completely walking in and locking myself into a stall. It was quiet and so when I heard faint sounds in the neighboring stall, visions of giant cockroaches appearing from drains, trash cans, and the ceiling filled my mind. I was acutely aware of being locked in. It took all I had not to bolt out of there with my pants down around my ankles.

Turns out there was just somebody in the other stall... but I won't be frequenting that bathroom anymore. My poor heart can't handle it.