With the burning rage of one thousand suns

I hate bugs

Wait what?

Yeah, I said it.  I hate bugs with the burning rage of one thousand suns.


  Ok, it may seem like a dramatic statement, but let me give you some context… when hubster and I were living together in Clemson, in our second apartment (we moved a lot), before he left for Florida, we had a situation.   There were a lot of bugs.  No, not just a lot…an infestation.  And not just any bugs, ROACHES (specifically, the little light brown ones eeeeehhhh).

When we first moved into the apartment it was just after coming back from Turkey.  It was an old apartment, like most in old college towns are, with plenty of cracks and crevices leading to the outside.  Even more, upstate SC is full of bugs because of its temperate climate.  And if that weren’t enough, we lived a stone’s throw from a wooded area and Lake Hartwell.  So it was a ripe location for pests.  Upon first moving in there wasn’t a lot to worry about- maybe a spider here or there, an occasional roach- and that’s to be expected in an old apartment, right? While I didn’t like bugs at the time, I could stomp out the occasional critter as they appeared without being too distraught.

As winter approached (we moved in in August, literally right after we came back from Turkey) the sightings of roaches increased but were predominantly limited to the kitchen.  Buy some roach hotels, spray some Raid and keep it clean- they soon disappeared.  Once winter left and the summer returned, our neighbors moved out…and it all hit the fan.



  In my shoes by the door, under the coffee machine, crawling around the floor and up the walls, hiding in the edges of the carpet, CRAWLING ACROSS THE FLIPPIN’ CEILING AND FALLING ON OUR HEADS!

I couldn’t even sleep, there were roaches in the bedroom.  We don’t even eat in the bedroom! There was nothing in there for them!! We took turns sleeping with the lights on to protect each other from the creepy crawlies.  At this point, we even obtained a mouse that hung out in the pantry and chewed through every plastic bag we owned (and now I keep all of our food stuffs in glass jars…).  We eventually had to stay the night at friends’ houses because it was out of hand.  And the slumlord…ahem, landlady, wanted to blame us.  Later I found out that the ENTIRE building (consisting of four large apartments) was infested, and they didn’t even bother to call a professional exterminator.  Needless to say, we broke our lease early and got the hell out of there, moving to our favorite apartment- a condo- where I spent the majority of the time with a roommate after hubster left.

  That was three years ago, and I still live in a perpetual state of bug-terror.  Two cans of raid are sitting on the kitchen counter (probably not the safest option) for ready wielding.  Last year hubster woke me at 3am because there was a roach on my pillow. ON MY DASH DARN PILLOW!!! We tossed the entire apartment, no item left alone.  We found a few more and killed those evil creatures. And in Florida we have a complementary pest extermination service that sprays every apartment on a monthly basis, yet still I see them on occasion.

  Now that the term is concluding, people are moving again.  I have seen three roaches, and killed one, in the kitchen.  I like to tell myself it is the same little jerk bug that I saw previously that I killed last night.  It helps me sleep at night, ok. Just let me have that!

So yeah, I hate roaches and bugs…and I refuse to live in an old apartment ever again.
Böceklerden çok nefret ediyorum…ve eski bir dairede yaşamak istemiyorum. 😡

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