June 6th. World Pest Day, huh? Honestly, feels like every day is World Pest Day in here. I’m Juan, by the way. Janitor. Not a glamorous job, but it pays for the good carnitas down on 24th Street. Abuelita always said a man who works with his hands is a man with dignity. She also said never trust a man who wears socks with sandals, but that’s a different story.

Anyway, I was in the janitor closet, trying to enjoy five minutes of peace with a lukewarm coffee. The closet’s not much, just shelves crammed with cleaning supplies and a busted radio that only plays static. I was contemplating if I had enough strength to mop the entire hallway before lunch when I saw it.

In the sink. Him.

That cockroach. The five-legged one with the broken antenna. Yesterday, I swear, I drowned the guy. Gave him the full sink treatment. Swirling water, a good stomp with my boot. He did this whole death spiral thing, legs flailing, then just…stopped. Satisfying.

But there he was, this morning, back in the sink. Just…sitting there. Like he was waiting for a bus. Not moving, but definitely not dead. It was unsettling.

Then I saw the little sign taped above the sink. It was one of those motivational things the school principal puts up. It said, “Resilience: The ability to bounce back.” And it hit me. These cockroaches… they're actors. Professional ones! They play dead just to avoid getting sprayed with that awful lemon-scented stuff. It's a whole performance. Like they’re thinking, “Oh no, the boot! Time for the Oscar-worthy death scene!”

Suddenly, everything made sense. The elaborate death spirals, the strategically timed stillness… it wasn’t stubborn cockroach-ness, it was method acting.

I spent a good ten minutes staring at him, trying to decide if I should applaud. Then Mrs. Hernandez, the history teacher, came in needing more disinfectant wipes. She gave me this look, like I was having a conversation with the sink.

“Everything alright, Juan?” she asked.

“Just admiring their dedication to the craft,” I mumbled, pointing at the cockroach. She just blinked and grabbed the wipes. Probably thinks I'm losing it.

I eventually left him there. What was I going to do, give him a standing ovation? It’s his sink now, I guess. Maybe he’ll start charging admission.

Another day, another weirdness. Honestly, I’m starting to expect it. Tomorrow’s shift will probably be even stranger. I just hope they don’t put up a sign about “inner strength” or something. I don’t need any more evidence of these cockroach’s acting skills.