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I hate cockroaches with a vengeance. Disgusting creatures! CN killed one which crawled in via our bathroom window last week.

But then, I just had the fright of my life when I was clearing the dry laundry... and an ugly, filthy monster of a cockroach crawled out of a nice clean towel. I shrieked in horror and it quickly crawled into hiding, which is the worst bit because now you can't see your enemy, and it's got the element of surprise on its side. Cockroaches have a tendency to move at lightning speeds too, so if you miss your chance to catch it, be prepared to hold a welcoming party for the whole clan in a matter of weeks.

So it was either still lurking somewhere in the laundry, or had cleverly scarpered to the safety of the dark corners of the tall shelf. After a quick phone call to the husband for words of encouragement and support, I armed myself with a plastic wastepaper basket (thank goodness I didn't buy those rattan ones!), mop handle and disinfectant spray. At that moment, I wholly regretted procrastinating the purchase of insect spray, which became necessary upon the discovery of the first intruder. I debated abandoning the fort at that moment in order to buy one from the store downstairs, but then the creature would have had the whole run of the apartment by the time I'd returned. So I gritted my teeth, braced myself for an ambush, and went into the trenches to fetter out the enemy.

Using the mop handle, I beat at the hanging laundry several times, gave it a few violent shakes, and ... nothing crawled out. I pushed the rack around, then peered behind the bookshelves: still no cockroach. Utterly convinced that the wretched creature had gotten the better of me, and in despair, I rang the husband again to report failure of tactics. But before I got through, I suddenly spotted a small movement among the hanging shirts. I slammed down the phone and went to have a closer look. The sly trespasser was quietly biding his time while clinging on to the fabric of one of CN's work shirts. I wondered if cockroaches develop a resistance to guerrilla warfare like how bacteria gradually become immune to stronger antibiotics. This time, I felt I had the advantage. I quickly moved aside several pieces of furniture that would have provided strategic cover should it make a run for it. Then I picked up the mop handle, and let rip several bursts of disinfectant in the direction of the cockroach. It scurried around a bit, but I wielded my mop handle with a supercharge of adrenaline and determination. You're not getting away this time, I thought, the renewed sense of purpose resulting from the opportunity to make amends for my earlier lack of success and burdening procrastination.

Finally, it dropped onto the floor, which was like open terrain, and as it darted for shelter, I brought the wastepaper basket down on it with a huge triumphant bang (narrowly shearing off an antenna in the process). Drenched with disinfectant, it scuttled feebly against the walls of the container before I added a heavy file on top of the basket, just in case. Now all that's required is for CN to come home and finish the job.

I'm so tired.