Can someone tell the roaches this isn't Joe's Apartment?

Damn.
Our fortress is under attack! And Mom's not here to defend it.

Woke up this morning to 2 roaches waltzing on the kitchen floor. And just as I leapt for the Baygon, they took off in 2 different directions, leaving me with little time to come up with anything else aside from frantically spraying after the one that was still within sight till it flipped over and hardened up.

And as I moved over to the small table in the corner of the living room which I thought the other might be hiding, I spotted not just the said fugitive but yet another one of his accomplice as well. So again I sprayed and I sprayed AND I SPRAYYYED!

Still, the latter managed to give me the slip, though I was pretty sure he didn't go too far off 'cos I cld hear scratching sounds long after his buddy had breathed its last. Yet however hard I try to concentrate, I just cldn't quite figure out where exactly it's coming from.

Just then, a tiny nymph shot out from nowhere and I immediately reacted by firing off a few quick burst. But the nubile young thing was too fast for me and it disappeared just as suddenly as it'd appeared.

So I stood up and went about accessing the damage instead. As much as I was tempted to convince myself that it's not really there and that I can live with it, the responsible voice in my head tells me I need to go clean up the mess 'cos that much is obvious - the floor (ie. the battleground) was soaking in oil so thick the roaches probably have drown rather than died from whatever chemicals is in the insecticide. And thus reluctantly, I took up the mop.

At first I thought just water alone wld have done the trick but when I saw that my hands, the mop and the pail were all stained with the insecticide and reeked of the smell, it became painfully clear that I needed to add some sort of floor wash. Well it didn't seem like such a big deal to me then but how was I to know that just looking for it wld prove to be such a test of my patience. And as if I wasn't already frustrated enough, guess what?! When I opened up one of the cabinets where my mom stores most of her detergent products...Voila! Another sighting!

This time though, I ran straight for the fly-beater and in one smooth swap, hit the shit out of the devil. Literally.
And just when I thought I'd seen the last of them, at least for one morning, believe it or not, I was to have one final encounter in the bathroom with let's just say a "teen" roach - bigger than the nymph but smaller than the other 3 full-grown ones I'd encountered earlier. By then, I've managed to locate the floor-wash already and was in the midst of washing up when it approached me and almost crawled up my leg!

Startled, I threw loads of water at it in an attempt to flush it down the drain but stubbornly it clung on. That was when I went out for my trusty fly-beater again and swoosh! That was it. Flat as a pancake.

Well it's hard not to feel the slightest bit paranoid now after this morning's drama. Before I left for work, I thought I cld still hear the scratching sounds whenever I filed pass the spot I stood at earlier on my way in and out of the kitchen. And I really can't be sure if it's for real.
Maybe I'll find out tonight...

But let's hope not.