A bad omen?

Another hot day in Brooklyn. We moved to this neighborhood 3 years ago. I should be used to it by now, right? Our other apartment had room to spare. And in one of those spare rooms was my art studio. I haven't gotten over resenting having to give that up. This apartment is plenty big but laid out all wrong. There's just one huge living room, a kitchen and a bedroom. My husband sleeps in the living room now and it's full of all varietes of equipment for him: the 3 wheelchairs, the commode that is useless now, the exercise equipement, the walker. STUFF. No room for an art studio. I paint in a corner of the bedroom. And there isn't one place around here to buy decent vegetables nor a pharmacy. UGH.
But me, ever the Pollyanna, try to see the bright side. We are across from the lake with all the geese flying to and fro: To in the morning and then back, fro in the afternoon. And the gardens on our street are lovely. Last year I actually saw a preying mantis, right there on the sidewalk. I bent to pick it up, to save it's little life so it wouldn't get squashed by the next pedestrian. The creature thanked me by biting my finger. Still, that day was one of the hightlights of life in our new neighborhood. I think of it every time I walk down the street. I wonder if I'll ever see another preying mantis.
Today was no different, except much hotter. So hot there were dehydrated earthworms scattered all over the pavement. I was feeling sick and tired of the area once more and made this zany vow: If I ever see that preying mantis dead, I'll know it's time to pack my bags and get out of here.
No sooner did I think the thought then there, all curled like a fallen leaf, I saw my hand-biting friend. I swooped him, no her, up and brought her home to show you. It's an omen, really it is!