Having unsuccessfully attempted an early night, I've just woken from... not quite a nightmare but a disturbing dream of some sort involving cockroaches. Brrr.
This is because my Monday was spent at a work-related doodah which involved travelling to a luxuuurious (that would be sarcasm) three-star hotel in West London for a series of training sessions. Maybe fifteen minutes into the first one, one of my colleagues put her hand up and the speaker paused, anticipating a question.
"There's a cockroach on my table and it's really distracting."
Everyone looked. There, clambering obscenely over the starched white tablecloth was an ugly great fucker of a 'roach maybe two inches long. She'd trapped it beneath an upended water glass and its antennae twitched as it attempted to scale the sheer wall of its prison. The speaker, to give him his due, paused, slid a bit of promotional bumph under the glass and carried the whole thing out to reception. Wish I'd been a (ho bloody ho) fly on the wall there.
I'm not sure why cockroaches creep me out the way they do but they're second only to wasps in my Most Hateful Insects Of All Time chart. Even the cute one in WALL·E caused me a slight shudder.