Monday, 08 September 2003 | Oval

In the shower, with only half my vision, I notice a dark blur scurry across the white tiles in the corner to my left, moving up the wall at a good clip. I don't need my glasses to know who it is, but I grab them anyway so that I could remain informed of his position. It occurs to me that this is progress, as I imagine that, in the past, I might've let the creature have the shower to himself.

My glasses become opaque with fog and slip off my shampooed head. I rub their lenses in vain and push them back on over and over, with my gaze carefully fixed on the now stationary brown oval. I can't see him very well through the fog or the blur, so I'm grateful that he's decided to cower, and that he's not rushing toward my feet in the current at the bottom of the tub.

Out of the shower, with full vision, I notice that the brown oval isn't a roach at all, but a defect on the edge of the bathtub that has posed as a roach, giving me a false sense of security. Sadly, it's not the first time that it's fooled me.