It’s late. I was in the bathroom staring at the hairy, mucky, dark grime where the tub meets the yellow linoleum and in one eyeful spotted both a shiny black earwig and a hairy, disgusting silverfish going about their many-legged business. As if aware of my repulsed gaping they slinked back under the soggy, rotting baseboards. The thought of sleeping with cotton balls in my ears crossed my mind, but I shook it off as that would make me most definitely neurotic.
