The beginning.

It's embarassing but the truth must be told.

My place is filled with what my mother likes to call "cockaroachies." The ones that breath in Raid fumes like an addict and roam about the kitchen in search for whatever leftovers to stuff their cravings. I swore to myself month after another that I would do something about it but here I am. Stuck with my roommates. Eating with them (shudders). Writing with them. Sleeping with one eye open in fear that the darkness might mislead them to think that my bed is theirs.
As the higher force as my witness, I will pack these freeloaders off to the neighboring pastures before the year is over. I just need to know how. Sighs.