I don't want this blog to end up being entirely about vermin, but lately it feels like my life is entirely about vermin.
I know that, as far as squalor goes, our case is relatively minor. We don't have rats, for example. We don't even have bedbugs, our imminent appointment with exterminator notwithstanding.
Is "exterminator" the right word? He has yet to exterminate anything, to my knowledge. I think he managed to inconvenience the mice, but since he hasn't been around in a while they've come back at least as strong. Given that tomorrow's bedbug treatment is theoretically the first of three, I'm not sure he plans on doing more than inconveniencing the bedbugs either. Of course, now that we've packed our clothes and bedding into plastic bags, taken the pictures off the wall, and arranged to be elsewhere tomorrow, he's unarguably managed to inconvenience us. So perhaps I should refer to him as the inconveniencor. He's doing a bang-up job.
My landlord is supposed to be the one paying the inconveniencor, but now that I think of it, I've never actually seen that happen. Perhaps it's my recent reading material turning my thoughts conspiratorial, but how do I know whose side he's on? What if it's the mice who are paying him to get rid of me?
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