Luck of the Unlucky
So I'm back temporarily in the land of LJ thanks in part to my friends taking a week long trip to a region that has forcasted thunderstorms for the majority of the week and their dsl connection and ancient computer.
And considering that it's now 7:00 am, and I've been up for an hour instead of just getting up at this time like usual, I have some spare time to tell you about the insanity that is my life the last couple of weeks.
First, there is the job, which was a total God send and I honestly can't get enough of. I love the people that I work with, I love the challenge of dealing with difficult customers, and the fact that my boss is crazy enough to participate in a game of office dare. What I don't like is when I make promises to the customers, promises that are quite reasonable and attainable and in company policy, and the others don't follow through with them. The customer has my name, so I'm the one that gets chewed out when the carrier side drops the ball. And honestly, the people that we have to rely on to get the job done aren't the cream of the crop. I mean do you know what qualifications you have to have to be a newspaper carrier? None. All you need is a license, the six pack of beer in the backseat is an optional but popular choice.
Second, there is the apartment, which also, I am very grateful for, because there aren't many places that are all electric for $310 a month around here. That's dirt cheap and the apartment is more than enough room for one girl to live out her Mary Tyler Moore life. I thought I'd done so well finding this place, sure it was a little dirty, but nothing a little bleach and elbow grease couldn't solve, right? Wrong. Upon further inspection, mainly when I actually started moving my shit in, I found that there was a catch, to this dream apartment. Mostly that I would have to share it with a hundred or so other occupants. Mexicans, you ask? No, I already fit that bill, what I'm talking about is roaches. Alot of roaches, baby size to medium size, that was everywhere. I was so embarassed when my parents saw the apartment when they brought my furniture. I've never had to live in a place that disgusting before. I thought I had problems before with occasional ant invasions. The good news is that after four sprayings, two by the landlord and two by me, that I've killed off the majority of them. The bad news, is that there are still some stragglers who like to scare the shit out of me. I'll go for hours and hours, hell, once even an entire day without seeing one and then just when I least expect it, one will stumble across my path. I guess there is a plus in that instead of pointing and screaming like I used to, I now spray the hell out of them until their dead, and my compulsive cleaning and paranoia about having food about has helped my apartment stay spotless and resulted in some weight loss. I should move you say? I said it too, but the truth is that I have zero money and really can't afford to pay for more rent, at least until I have a second job, not to mention that I'd have to repack everything and I hate unpacking.
Third, there is what happened last night. So after a week of battling it out for a claim on my apartment, I was looking forward for taking it easy in the lap of luxury by housesitting. Won't it be nice to have a dsl connection and cable? To be somewhere where I don't have to be paranoid about bugs? You'd think so, but not so. I get off work and come here to my friend's house, and I'm here about an hour before I go to get a drink and notice that there are about seven to eight dead bugs around the window. I'm of course grossed out, and then freaked out because I'm paranoid that I brought them from my house. Because isn't that the shittiest thing I could do to my friends? Repay their generosity with infestation? But then I realize that these are not roaches at all, but some other kind of bug. They're dead though, so I'm guessing that maybe my friends just sprayed and in their hurry to leave forgot to clean up. So I ignore it. Maybe better friends would have cleaned them up, but not me. I'm just here to take advantage of the cable and the washer and dryer. So I do one or two loads of laundry and about midnight, to my dismay, I'm shocked to find two new bugs near my dirty laundry bag. A good ten feet away from the window. I grab the broom to make sure they're dead when one flies up at me. And if this were a movie this is where it would pause and my voice over would say "Oh shit." So I run and scream. I come back to the kitchen doorway and try to find the bug that's now frantically flying about the kitchen and for some reason that is the point where I suddenly realize that these dead bugs look alot like bees. Well, they might, if I knew exactly what a bee looked like. See, I'm allergic, so I never really got close enough before to look at them. I mean how stupid would that be, to risk your life for a good look? So what do I do? Well seeing as it's midnight and my parents are six hours away and unable to help, I call them. My dad talks to me on the cell phone for almost thirty minutes, half asleep, about how bees can nest in attics and under windows and how at all costs I should not make them angry. I'm freaking out, because I don't want to die My Girl style, and on the other hand my friends aren't coming home for an entire week and I've still got to worry about the cats and dogs I was left in charge of. So with my dad on the phone the entire time, I sneak out of the house and go home. Home, sweet home, where at least the bugs can't kill you. My dad tells me that I will need to get someone to come with me the next morning to see if it is in fact bees, and if I need to pay for someone to spray (I so can't afford for someone to spray). Meanwhile, I've got to come early, early and let the dogs out, unless I want to contest with dog piss as well as a potential nest of bees. So I wake up at the crack of dawn this morning, put together some clothes out of the few that aren't at my friends house in the laundry pile and head over here to let the dogs out. And do you want to know what I realized this morning at 6:45 as the sunlight filtered in through the kitchen window.
Those aren't bees, those are brown beetles.
Which is still disgusting, but at least it's not life threatening. Right now I'm feeling massive guilt for waking up my parents at midnight and freaking out over beetles. I'm thinking about seeking out medication for paranoia.
I need help.
And considering that it's now 7:00 am, and I've been up for an hour instead of just getting up at this time like usual, I have some spare time to tell you about the insanity that is my life the last couple of weeks.
First, there is the job, which was a total God send and I honestly can't get enough of. I love the people that I work with, I love the challenge of dealing with difficult customers, and the fact that my boss is crazy enough to participate in a game of office dare. What I don't like is when I make promises to the customers, promises that are quite reasonable and attainable and in company policy, and the others don't follow through with them. The customer has my name, so I'm the one that gets chewed out when the carrier side drops the ball. And honestly, the people that we have to rely on to get the job done aren't the cream of the crop. I mean do you know what qualifications you have to have to be a newspaper carrier? None. All you need is a license, the six pack of beer in the backseat is an optional but popular choice.
Second, there is the apartment, which also, I am very grateful for, because there aren't many places that are all electric for $310 a month around here. That's dirt cheap and the apartment is more than enough room for one girl to live out her Mary Tyler Moore life. I thought I'd done so well finding this place, sure it was a little dirty, but nothing a little bleach and elbow grease couldn't solve, right? Wrong. Upon further inspection, mainly when I actually started moving my shit in, I found that there was a catch, to this dream apartment. Mostly that I would have to share it with a hundred or so other occupants. Mexicans, you ask? No, I already fit that bill, what I'm talking about is roaches. Alot of roaches, baby size to medium size, that was everywhere. I was so embarassed when my parents saw the apartment when they brought my furniture. I've never had to live in a place that disgusting before. I thought I had problems before with occasional ant invasions. The good news is that after four sprayings, two by the landlord and two by me, that I've killed off the majority of them. The bad news, is that there are still some stragglers who like to scare the shit out of me. I'll go for hours and hours, hell, once even an entire day without seeing one and then just when I least expect it, one will stumble across my path. I guess there is a plus in that instead of pointing and screaming like I used to, I now spray the hell out of them until their dead, and my compulsive cleaning and paranoia about having food about has helped my apartment stay spotless and resulted in some weight loss. I should move you say? I said it too, but the truth is that I have zero money and really can't afford to pay for more rent, at least until I have a second job, not to mention that I'd have to repack everything and I hate unpacking.
Third, there is what happened last night. So after a week of battling it out for a claim on my apartment, I was looking forward for taking it easy in the lap of luxury by housesitting. Won't it be nice to have a dsl connection and cable? To be somewhere where I don't have to be paranoid about bugs? You'd think so, but not so. I get off work and come here to my friend's house, and I'm here about an hour before I go to get a drink and notice that there are about seven to eight dead bugs around the window. I'm of course grossed out, and then freaked out because I'm paranoid that I brought them from my house. Because isn't that the shittiest thing I could do to my friends? Repay their generosity with infestation? But then I realize that these are not roaches at all, but some other kind of bug. They're dead though, so I'm guessing that maybe my friends just sprayed and in their hurry to leave forgot to clean up. So I ignore it. Maybe better friends would have cleaned them up, but not me. I'm just here to take advantage of the cable and the washer and dryer. So I do one or two loads of laundry and about midnight, to my dismay, I'm shocked to find two new bugs near my dirty laundry bag. A good ten feet away from the window. I grab the broom to make sure they're dead when one flies up at me. And if this were a movie this is where it would pause and my voice over would say "Oh shit." So I run and scream. I come back to the kitchen doorway and try to find the bug that's now frantically flying about the kitchen and for some reason that is the point where I suddenly realize that these dead bugs look alot like bees. Well, they might, if I knew exactly what a bee looked like. See, I'm allergic, so I never really got close enough before to look at them. I mean how stupid would that be, to risk your life for a good look? So what do I do? Well seeing as it's midnight and my parents are six hours away and unable to help, I call them. My dad talks to me on the cell phone for almost thirty minutes, half asleep, about how bees can nest in attics and under windows and how at all costs I should not make them angry. I'm freaking out, because I don't want to die My Girl style, and on the other hand my friends aren't coming home for an entire week and I've still got to worry about the cats and dogs I was left in charge of. So with my dad on the phone the entire time, I sneak out of the house and go home. Home, sweet home, where at least the bugs can't kill you. My dad tells me that I will need to get someone to come with me the next morning to see if it is in fact bees, and if I need to pay for someone to spray (I so can't afford for someone to spray). Meanwhile, I've got to come early, early and let the dogs out, unless I want to contest with dog piss as well as a potential nest of bees. So I wake up at the crack of dawn this morning, put together some clothes out of the few that aren't at my friends house in the laundry pile and head over here to let the dogs out. And do you want to know what I realized this morning at 6:45 as the sunlight filtered in through the kitchen window.
Those aren't bees, those are brown beetles.
Which is still disgusting, but at least it's not life threatening. Right now I'm feeling massive guilt for waking up my parents at midnight and freaking out over beetles. I'm thinking about seeking out medication for paranoia.
I need help.