-Crickets. Imagine Indiana Jones saying, “snakes, I hate SNAKES.” and then exchange the word ‘snake’ for the word ‘crickets’ and you have a small idea of how I feel. I revert to a 3-year-old and point and freeze saying “Ben Ben Ben Ben Ben Ben” and he knows that tone in my voice and come running with a paper towel. My knight! At night my house is overcome by a plague of crickets, pouring in all the cracks.
-Spiders. Yeeech. But I’m OK with the eight legged arachnid bunch for the most part. I know, I’m psychotic to be so terrified about crickets and just ignore the literal 3 -yes, 3 I just counted for real- spiders in my little office cove. (All this is after we bombed the place with anti-bug spray before we moved in.)
-Low-flow-whatever-toilets. What post would be complete without a mention of poop or vomit? I will not disappoint. The low-flow toilet basically means it doesn’t flush well. You look at it cross-eyed and it clogs. My usually sluggish bowels have decided that a low-flow-toilet is what it needed and just when I don’t EVER want to poop, well, you get the picture.
-My brother decided to move in for the summer.
-I wish that I lived in some old fashioned-y time where houses were still made with dumb-waiters. Is that what they are called even? You know, the little box that the servants used to send up food and whatever else the master of the house was needing. I think that would be so handy for putting Summit in. It is such a hassle to trip over the child gate at the foot of the stairs, stumble up them carrying child and whatever other accessories I need for him (cup, snack, toy, etc) because regardless of what floor I’m on, what I need is always on the wrong one. I then have to look wild-eyed around for a victim to watch him as I trip down the stairs, over the child gate, and the promptly forget what it was that I needed so very badly upstairs.
-The cats litter box is in the closet next to me.
-The bedroom has no windows and I have been told to pull my bed out from the wall when it rains because there is a chance that my room will slightly flood. really. The good news is, however, due to the lack of windows I am sleeping very soundly. (It’s possible the sleeping drugs are helping out a little in that department.)
-It is a good thing that there are stairs for me to go up and down millions of times a day because I have ate my weight in chocolate the last 5 days. (That crinkling noise is me opening up another morsel.)
-There is a deadbolt lock on the door without a corresponding hole for it to go into to securely lock the door. It took me an embarrassing amount of time to figure this out.
-Every time someone walks across the floor above me little trickles of dust fall down on my head and sprinkle my floor.
-The previous statement was a lie. It just feels like dust should fall when people walk across because it’s so loud.
-(more crinkling.) There is NO WAY to child proof the ‘ment. I should just record my voice saying “no! don’t touch!” before I go hoarse and just put it on a repeat cycle for Summit when he is awake.
-Summit is getting his molars.
-The pipe connected to the upstairs toilet twists down in a way that goes overhead in my downstairs bathroom. Every time someone does their business and flushes when I’m in the bathroom (probably plunging the toilet)it goes over my head in a delightful gurgling/whooshing kind of way.
-I think that I must be in shock or God is better Novocain than I thought he was because besides the obvious dark humor of this post, I feel actually fine and slightly cheery. Maybe I have finally cracked. I don’t know. It’s not easy, but I’m still alive.
-and annoyance of all annoyance- I made a Friday VLOG for you and it won’t upload. But it still posted. Don’t get that. Very grrrrrrrr blogspot.