Vermin

The exterminator was just here (the association has him come out once a month) and he said that the huge cockroach I found dying in the corner of my bedroom last week was most likely not a cockroach, but a "waterbug." He blamed it on the torrential downpours we had just before I found it and told me how if you go to a certain local street, you could see thousands of them in the diner parking lot*. Anyway, I'm happy because that means I'm not a slob. Okay, Christine, I know you are "tsk-tsking" right now because you were in my apartment about a month ago and saw evidence to the contrary, but shuddup because it's clean here now and the bug guy said it wasn't a cockroach. And anyway, even if I am a slob, I am not a dirty slob whose nastiness caters to vermin. And I'd say that's some good news.

* Note to Self: Never, never go to that diner...


*****

I hate birds. I just find that whole flying-around-my-head-threatening-to-peck-my-eyes-out-and-
shitting-on-my-car thing very unappealing. Because I live in a semi-city environment, and in an apartment, I've seen my share of pigeons while living here. In fact, there is a nest of them on top of the window air conditioner across the ally from my bedroom, and on most mornings they wake me up if my noisy air purifier isn't on.

Anyway, just now, as I was typing this entry, I noticed water falling right in front of my window. I looked out, and saw that the stream of water was only coming from one spot, and that it looked kind of whitish. I went to the window and looked up, and I saw the ass of a pigeon shaking it's tail feather, drip-dropping its excess shit. Right onto my Welcome mat.

Welcome, indeed.