August 24, 2005, 12:14am

Actually, I should have slept as I'll have my first class tomorrow at 8:30am. What's more, I'll be TA for the class. But I really need to write about the drama I had this evening or I may develop a repression.

It's a roach, a huge one. (Jamie, I got your email asking me about this in the morning. Then, the roach is here! You can do (mis)fortune-telling!) I was in the bathroom then I saw it lying on the floor bottom up, with its antennas searching.

I'm phobic about this creature since very small. I mean, I really had a trauma with it. So, I went to Du Lin, my temporary roommate, to see if she could help.

It turned out that she's not much beter than me in dealing with this creature and our fear of it. So, it took us 30 minutes to figure out how and then finally did what we could to get rid of it.

First, I tried to suffocate it with liquid soup. Somehow, someone told me long time ago that roaches are insects and they have holes on the body to breathe. So, if you put some thick, dense liquid on them, they can't breathe... This is the theory.

Well, theories are generalization. In reality, or at least in my experiment, the roach struggled violently when I put a drop of liquid soup on its stomach. Then, unexpectedly, it turned over with its back up and walked!

The theory doesn't work. I'm terrified.

So, we closed the bathroom door immediately and looked at each other. What should we do now?

After taking a breath of relief, we opened the door again and it's standing near the shower box. Now, what?

Du Lin covered the ugly creature wih a plastic and banged it a million times with the sweeper. Well, it's covered so we didn't know if she's successful in this attempt of murder.

So, I walked closer to the plastic bag, banged it for another million times. Then, this poor creature was smashed. Dismantled with its one leg separated. OK. What now?

I couldn't think. I had tears on my cheek. Yes, I know. I have object phobia. I need help. But clinical psychologists and psychiatrists won't be able to help at this critical moment.

I kept doing cognitive therapy all the way: It's dead. What the hack? When it's alive, you're carrying germs. Now, you're dead. I shouldn't be afraid of you. Now, you go to the Father in Heaven. I sent you to the Father...

After the exposure therapy (standing beside it) and cognitive therapy, I got two cardboards to use as chopsticks and put that damn thing on the plastic bag. But then, its one leg is still on the floor. So I struggled with the cardboard and finally the leg was with the body again.

So, finally, I put it in the garbage bin outside. I felt like to have a shower. And I actually sprayed the cleaner with bleach on the floor and mopped it before my physiotherapy exercise.

So, this drama overrides all my other adventures today: my first time baking chicken thighs, my first time with GatorLift, my course registration and the effect of the joint supplement I got from Walmart.

Let me write about these later when I have my mood to. I'm just too anxious with the roach. I really see my need to see a clinical psychologist to treat my phobia. (Clinical psychologists, do I have any hope of recovery?)