Seriously, ten minutes a day?

I don't think I can write ten minutes of not-random-crap every day... Well, just as I type this I hear a blood-curdling scream from the laundry area in our apartment... I hurry over there to my wife, bug-eyed in terror... It was a little roach... It was already dead. I thought there was a zombie in there eating someone's brains out. Seriously, it sounded that bad.