There is a roach in my garage. A big one. I have paperwork in my car. My car is in the garage. When I open the door it flies. I hate roaches. I’m so scared of them I’d rather stand in an ant pile while watching baseball rather than encounter one. I can see the headline: Girl fails to meet deadline due to roach. I could explain the law on squatters to said roach and begin eviction proceedings (I live in a nonjudicial eviction state) but a) I doubt he’d listen (he’s an evil roach) and b) He’s scary and knows it (why else would he come flying when he knows K is asleep?) Sigh. I think I’ll name him Smarmy.