My girlfriend told me she killed a long black bug — presumably a cockroach — in the kitchen yesterday. She showed me the stain on the wall, the aftermath of the murder. I was distracted for the next hour with catastrophizing thoughts. Ad no, I was not concerned that she was plotting my demise.

“What if I begin seeing more? I’ll have to kill the bastards when I see them on the countertops or in the cabinets. Should I buy spray and/or traps? Why isn’t the cat hunting the bugs? I must alert the landlord of my need for an exterminator. . . . “

I scanned the kitchen this morning as I prepared my coffee, inspecting the room for uninvited guests. I saw none and later thought, “What the hell, bro?!” Let’s take a deep breath.

My response to my girlfriend seeing and squashing was irrational [obviously]. Jeffrey Lockwood, a professor of ecology at the University of Wyoming. Lockwood and author of The Infested Mind: Why Humans Fear, Loathe, And Love Insects, says that my fear of bugs is not proportionally related to the dangers they pose to my health. He opines that my disgusted feelings for the critters result from nurture, not nature.

I have calmed down. (Because I read more about this issue and recognized my exaggerated response or because I have not seen any roaches?)

Bugs are simply creatures on Earth, like me, Faith, and Ella Cat. They are not “bad”; they are scared of me. I’ll heed my love’s advice and “take a chill pill.”