Sick of Myself

Wake up this morning feeling like crap. I want to lay in bed all day – but I can’t. The exterminator is coming, anytime between 9am-12pm. We have to be out of the apartment for at least four hours, so I get up at 8:45am, get myself ready, then lay back down in bed with my door open so I can hear him knock. He rings the doorbell around 10. “Ready to be sprayed?” Yea, I hope so. Oscar is really nice. A cute, round Mexican.

We go in the kitchen together and I realize that all of the cabinets have NOT been cleared out. OMG. I didn’t check last night. I walked in the door, saw so much stuff on the tables, asked Mike and Troy if they got it all and they said yes. No, they did not. I’m so mad, I want this over with. “I can come back next month if you want, or I can just do a surface spray now.” No, no, I can get the rest of it out now. “I don’t think so. It looks like you only got out about a third of it. This won’t take 15 minutes or a half hour. This is an hour job.” Ugh. Defeated. Surface spray it is. We talk for about 20 minutes at least. I ask him a bunch of questions about roaches and what we can do and what the next step is after he sprays today. This is a gross conversation. “If you find any egg sacs, you can vacuum them up if you have a bag vacuum.” Ew. Well I have a bagless vacuum. “Well you can still use that but then you have to make sure it’s cleaned out or they’ll hatch in your vacuum.” Ewwww Oscar! No, I don’t think I’ll take that risk. Vomit. “You can also buy bait motels.” OK, I’ve heard of roach motels, but not bait motels. I’m sure they’re the same thing, but I can’t help but interrupt him, laughing. Wait, hold on, bait motels, like Norman Bates? Ha! These scary little motels that kill roaches have a clever name. “No, like bait, uhh, you know, that you use for fish.” Right, Oscar, I get it, but don’t you see the humor? No, because this isn’t funny. I remember I’m pissed off and feel dirty.

I wake up Troy, who has been sleeping through this whole thing, and we leave for Panera. I’m fuming. Of course take it all out on Troy. I told you guys you had to take EVERYTHING out. What was confusing about that? “Well we didn’t find any roaches in those drawers, so..I didn’t think it was a big deal.” Lord. I’m so mad. I’m mad at Mike and Troy for only doing half of what they were supposed to do, I’m mad at myself for not checking last night when I came in, I’m mad at Ines for acting like this is all a surprise that there are roaches in her apartment, and most of all I’m mad that we have to deal with it. I apologize to Troy for flipping out. Still mad, though.

We sit in Panera for four hours. It’s actually quite nice. It’s dark and dreary and rainy all day, which goes with how I feel. But inside, it’s warm and toasty and smells good, and there’s Christmas music playing. I get a lot of writing done but have to take breaks to rest my head. Whenever I don’t feel well I get really tired and lethargic. It’s annoying. We head back to the apartment around 3pm. I don’t want to get out of Troy’s car because it’s so nice and warm. It’s going to be freezing in our place. There’s a box waiting for me at the door. I love packages! Get inside and tear it open. A big, warm, soft pale blue blanket is inside. From Mom, of course. Couldn’t be better timing. All I want to do is unwrap it and crawl inside my bed with a cup of tea, but the kitchen won’t stop staring at me.

I get to work cleaning all the cabinets and countertops, careful not to clean at the edges because you want the spray to stay there. Start moving everything back to where it goes – even though I really have no idea where most of it goes. Oh well. Then I start re-washing all the dishes. I feel like everything is contaminated. Troy comes down and puts the drinking glasses away and replaces all the drawers. To think, we might have to do this again – but more thorough – in a month.

I’m exhausted. Take a long, hot shower, then sit down to eat Ramen and watch Breaking Bad with Mike, cuddling up in our new blanket. In the episode, Walt gets his genius scientist friend Ramen as a present. His friend is ecstatic over it, claiming that Ramen is the reason they are where they are today. Well, cheers to that!

*Matthew Sweet

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