It's the beginning of a new school year. With our TJ Maxx decorations and Scotch Mounting Tape in hand, my three best friends and I entered the new world of apartment living.

We thought we had it all: ice cream in the freezer, wine in the fridge and the independence to live on our own. It took one night, however, to realize that we were wrong.

11:58 pm: We sit, painting our nails, anxiously awaiting the first round of sorority recruitment. All is well.

11:59 pm: I hear screams. ALL IS NOT WELL. THERE IS A GIANT FLYING ROACH IN THE APARTMENT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.    

12:00 am: The adrenaline has kicked in. We’re in survival mode. It’s every man for himself. After a desperate round of "nose goes", some complaining, and bribery, we send the strongest of the group to eradicate the intruder.  

12:04 am: More screams. I send mental apologies to our neighbors as I climb onto the kitchen table in fear. We gather everything we can think of to kill the roach: brooms, shoes, whisks and hairspray. Our feeble attempts to kill the varmint have forced it into hiding.  

12:05 am: I resent being single. This is what boyfriends are for, right?? 

12:06 am: I make a Snapchat story of my roommate crying about the roach. The hysteria of the situation at least needs to be documented. 

12:10 am: After ruling out every boy in my contact list, I finally decide to call my brother. We make a deal. In exchange for the previously mentioned ice cream, he will come try his hand at being an exterminator.

12:30 am: There's a knock at the door. Our savior has arrived. We immediately put him to work. I make a mental note to send my parents a fruit basket for having another child.  

12:45 am: Still no sign of the invader. After sweat and tears, we decide that the search will have to continue in the morning. 

1:00 am: After a large bowl of ice cream, my worthless brother leaves. He walks out the door, only to walk right back in and announce to the apartment that there are 2 more velociraptor-roach hybrids on the wall outside our door. He kills both and leaves. 

2:00 am: Following an episode of Private Practice , I crawl into bed and say extra prayers regarding our unwelcome visitor.  

9:00 am: After a long night of rest, I have almost completely forgotten about last night's unfortunate occurrence. I hop in the shower, only to find the roach on the cabinet. I grab a towel, run out, and return to the kitchen table. 

9:01 am: I text my dad and ask him if it's too late to move somewhere else.