Palmetto Bug Stress Disorder (PGSD)

Have I got a story for you.

It was a rainy night, nearly 2 am, and I was finally making my way to the car. If you’re familiar with Florida summers you know that it’s bright and sunny in the morning, and torrential downpours in the afternoon/evening.

A perfect setting for…bugs. *Cue dramatic lightening*. Now I keep a decently clean car, minimal items, even less trash, and absolutely no food is left in my car. However, I forgot that bugs are craftier and slimmer than car door cushions. I shall never forget again.

I sat down in the driver’s seat of my Ford Fusion, and in one sweeping motion pulled on my seat belt and shut my door. As I grabbed my seat belt I felt something scuttle across my hand. SCUTTLE.

It was too late, by the time I realized the door had shut, the light went off, and my hand tingled with the hooky feet sensation of a Palmetto Bug. I caught a horrible glimpse of it as it raced across my wrist and ON TO MY PELVIS (praise Jesus for thick jeans). What is a Palmetto Bug? Think Cockroach but gigantic and can fly (IT CAN FLY TAKE THAT IN).

I calmly removed my hands and turned on the car light. Half of its body was visible, the other half was hidden under the secured seat belt. Now in retrospect I definitely should’ve swatted it outwards towards my door… Instead I slowly opened my door and proceeded to swipe it inwards… Towards my car seats… DON’T ASK WHY, I PANICKED.

Curse those hooky little feet. The bug held its ground and instead SCUTTLED ACROSS MY HIPS and onto my freaking back. (I’m reliving this nightmare right now). This put the horrible little thing in the crevice of my seat. I tried to murder it in cold blood with a hefty book but the little bastard was too quick. He hid in the safety of my car, deep, deep in the crevices of the unknown.

For the next fifteen minutes I looked furiously and carefully through my car while screaming bloody murder to my dear sweet husband over the phone. Many curse words were uttered. Many indeed. Eventually I wrapped up my search, drove with the light on all the way home, called my best friend Sarah and just screamed incessantly. I gripped the steering wheel still uttering many-a-curse-words. I still don’t know where it is till this day.

Do you see the header picture? That’s me now. I’m aged, distressed, and apparently a man. Beware Palmetto Bug Stress Disorder (PBSD) . *Shudders* Check your cars after it rains ladies and gentleman. Check your cars.

Crying batman

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