The One Where I Talk Too Much About the Weather

You know I've been in far too hot a place for too long when I go for a run in 86 degree weather and think of words like "brisk" and "chilly." 86 degrees is not brisk. But relatively, it is pretty exciting to still be below 90 first thing in the morning. The worst was a couple weeks ago, just after I moved in, when it would get down to 101 in the evenings and you'd use phrases like "finally cooling off a little."
Well. If you've spoken to me or of me at all in the past few weeks, you know of the losing battle we fought against the cockroaches of Bethany, OK, which subsequently led to another week in Kansas and a scramble for an inhabitable residence. I have one now, of course, but due to the fight we fought a few weeks ago, I still shudder when I see any insect of any variety anywhere in my new place. Believe it or not, a few have shown up here, but by a few I really do mean two or three in the past three weeks. And you better believe that I don't afford them a quick toilet paper death. Not even. I, the one who usually shoos insects out a window or door instead of stomping or squashing, have been sprinkling them with boric acid and letting them suffer. I still let spiders live, though.
ANYWAY. Two or three hasn't been so bad, but I am still haunted. And this next part, I thought I imagined. I noticed this spot on the ceiling above my bed. Not a dark spot like anything living, and definitely inanimate. Just like a small trick of light or a large inconsistency in the ceiling crumbles. It kept catching my eye though, so last night I decided to take a look up close. You might have to click it to enlarge it to see what I am talking about.

YES. THAT IS A COCKROACH PAINTED ON TO MY BEDROOM CEILING ABOVE MY BED.