The Way Things Are






Someone I love very dearly
2005-05-26, 9:47 a.m.

Someone I love very dearly has some big news. I am so happy and excited I can barely contain myself.

But contain myself I will. I trapped myself under an empty yogurt carton and will remain there until I calm down and quit buzzing about the room in an elated state of brain fizzies.

Speaking of flying around the room, we have been inundated at home with those giant big-assed cockroaches. Not the ones with the small wings and the fat, slick looking jointed bodies. I’m talking about the ones with the tiny heads and big wings that stand up tall on their crunchy legs and run TOWARD light and sound rather than running AWAY from me and my banging on the kitchen counter and stomping my feet.

My only solace is that I am not alone. Our houseguest over the weekend, Lou, told me – after a cockroach RAN OVER HIM as he lay on Lil Guy’s bedroom floor – that his house is full of them, too, and they have had several “cockroach incidents”. Such a polite boy. And my co-worker Peaches says that her garage is full of them, and they are in her house, too.

I am bombing the ever-loving shit out of our house right now even as we speak. You know those Raid thingies that you drop the little toxic canister into a little cup of water, and they start to go shhhhhhhh and then they make smoke, and a toxic, killer cloud fills your house? Those ones are the ones I am using.

I called DW at work as I fled the house and told him not to go home for three hours. He scoffed at my attempt, and I told him that even if this doesn’t kill the roaches, it will at least instill a little fearful respect into their tiny heads and make them not be quite so brazen in their scurrying through the house over people in broad daylight.

Attempt scoffer!

We shall see.

These are the roaches that are capable of flying. I haven’t seen one fly in quite a few years, but I know they can do it if they feel it is necessary. How do they determine whether or not flying is in fact necessary? I don’t even want to know.

BWUH. I got chills…they’re multiplyin’. Let’s not speak of the roaches ever again.

Here’s a health insurance update: We still have health insurance. We are probably switching LG and me back to Blu3 Cr0ss, and I believe DW wants to live his life uncovered, unprotected and barely civilized. Hey, I had to teach him how to use the toilet brush this morning. I can’t expect 100% civilization in under 4 years, can I? How quickly will we progress from toilet cleaning to health insurance? Baby steps.

So here’s what I have in store for myself when I get home this evening: a trip to L0we’s to look at bathroom cabinets and tile; massive clean-up of (hopefully) dead cockroach carcasses; clean-up of toxic smoke infected kitchen counters; laundry; workout (skipped this morning, but hey, it’s Thursday. Thursday is the new Friday); make sweet schweet love to my DishWasher.

One day, when we live in a real house with real kitchen appliances, I will have a real dishwasher, for which I may be so grateful that I just might make love to it, too.

Now that you wish to scoop the part of your brain that contains that mental image out through your eye socket with a spork, I bid you good day. I SAID GOOD DAY!

(NOTE: this journal entry contains my first ever attempt at doing a link? Did I do good? Did I? Did I? Huh?)

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