So there's even a story here.
Two nights ago, I fell asleep on the couch studying. Half woke up, the lights still on, I see something on the floor. I realize it might be a bug, but roll over because I'm tired. Kinda thought about it in the morning, but didn't give it much thought beyond that.
Last night, sitting there watching TV instead of studying, and he comes out again. I try to hit him with a binder, he jumps away. I look around, don't see him, so I give it up as a lost cause.
So maybe ten minutes ago, about the same time as last night, I see him. And try to hit him again. This time, I must have stunned him a bit, because his jump was to somewhere that I could see. Try again, and he jumps away again. So I start tearing my place apart, holding a very heavy physio text with the intention of smashing him. Of course, it turns out it's not as easy as you'd think to use a textbook to smash a bug, and I trip over my whiteboard and my computer so he doesn't jump on me. The search continues, moving books and pillows and stuff to find him (and rug burning my knuckle somehow), until I realize that he's under my couch. The whiteboard becomes a weapon, one I never get to use. I discover he's jumped to where I keep my shoes.
This was the end. Chacos turned out to be his demise.Cricket is no more. I kinda felt bad, but that was before the primal rush of triumphing over a small insect set in. It felt good.
Okay, back to studying now.
