Second, it's that pat little phrase everyone seems to like to toss your way when a lot of annoying shit happens at once. Like saying that is somehow going to make it better, or worse, imply that you're complaining about nothing. Maybe it's the Law of Attraction, maybe it's payday cycles, maybe it's Mercury in retrograde, maybe it's a natural progression of events you just didn't plan well enough for. And maybe you didn't plan for it because you really didn't see it coming, or maybe you just didn't have the resources, physically, financially, mentally or spiritually, to prepare for the oncoming storm. When people tell me, "Oh, you know, when it rains, it pours," I feel like they're simultaneously minimising my suffering and telling me they really don't want to hear about it.
So don't fucking tell me that.
(art by teralilac)I've already written about the bedbug problem. I'm truly fed up with bugs invading my home, in general. What I find a thousand times more irritating are humans invading my home with little or no notice, to spread chemicals I'm not sure are safe for the cats, for a problem we don't have. Apparently, our new neighbours in the other half of our duplex saw some cockroaches in their kitchen. They called the rental company, and the rental company sent the exterminators out. I got a notice in my mailbox when I got home last night at 23:30 advising me that I needed to do approximately sixty-three-billion different things to prepare for the exterminators to come into my home. Today. Remove everything from the cabinets, clear off the countertops, seal all food in airtight containers, vacuum, put all dishes away (but not in cardboard boxes), and move all the furniture away from the walls. Yes, basically clean and rearrange the entire house, which I am not physically capable of doing even on my best days. Oh, and lock up the cats. They did not even mention what time this would be happening.
When I was done flipping out, I called the rental office and explained my situation. After all, I'd never complained of cockroaches. The lady I talked to told me that I should just do as much as I could, which I did. I cleaned the kitchen countertops, moved stuff away from the baseboards, sealed up all the food, and put all the dishes away. They showed up just as I was rounding up the cats.
And who should be accompanying the nice Orkin man but our rental agent, who took it upon himself, while he was there, to observe that we had four, not three cats, and that the carpet was "absolutely covered" in cat fur. He also noted that the kitchen floor wasn't clean, and said that there would now be regular inspections in our home to make sure we were keeping our end of the rental agreement. Unfortunately, there is a clause in the rental agreement that the company can revoke permission to have pets at any time, for any reason they want.
We pay an extra $150 per month in rent for the cats, and we understood when we signed the lease that we would be responsible for cleaning when we moved out, including repairing any damage the cats might have done. So, to me, this feels like an unnecessary invasion of privacy. We will be getting "housekeeping notices" soon, he said, and we'd have to discuss the terms of the lease. Our rent may go up even higher now, and we cannot get out of the lease until November.
Oh, and we still have bedbugs.
I immediately felt like this was all my fault, because I'm admittedly a terrible housekeeper. I keep my room neat and tidy because I need it to be that way for emotional and spiritual reasons, but the rest of the house overwhelms me. Because of chronic back pain and fatigue, I am just not able to do a whole lot, so much of it falls to Matt. But Matt is the breadwinner, and he shouldn't have to keep house, too. Isn't that what a wife is supposed to do? Initiate guilt spiral ... now.
I did what I could today. I called the bedbug exterminator (again), and he agreed to come out and do an inspection tomorrow at 10:30. I also got estimates from three different places for carpet cleaning, and the housecleaning service we used when we lived in the old house is coming tomorrow to give us an estimate. I suggested to Matt that the most logical way to do this was to have the cleaning service come out first, then the carpet cleaners, and finally the exterminators. Matt suggested we get plastic carpet protector mats to put under the bedroom doors so that Mr. B doesn't try to dig a hole through the floor to get into our rooms at night.
Who the fuck knows where all the money is going to come from... oh, wait. Remember that credit card I was going to use to start my business? If all else fails, we have that. It won't cover the exterminator, but it should cover the cleaning. So there's that. Matt does not like the idea of using it for that purpose, but hey, maybe it was serendipitous that I got approved for it right now. When the annoying shit is over, then I can use it for its original intended purpose.
Once Matt and I discuss the estimates and dates for service, I'll call the rental office and let them know exactly what we plan to do. I will even offer to show them the receipts for the work done. I hope that will be enough to get them off our backs. I really don't relish random home inspections, even if they do, by law, have to give us 24 hours notice.
I am sick to death of feeling like the place I live is under siege. Essentially, we have gone from dealing with a slum lord to dealing with a large, prestigious rental company, and the agents probably expect everyone, even those of us who are renting their restored properties in the "bad part of town," to behave as proper Nordstrom-shopping, middle-class thirty-somethings. (Our new neighbours? I peeked into their house once. They are absolute neat freaks. Of course, if we're going to be compared to them, we look like slobs.) I think next time, we need to find a happy medium. Despite the fact that I have more independence here, I am really starting to wish we had never sold the house. At this rate, the expense of staying here is approaching the house payment, and we still have medical bills to deal with, not to mention vet bills. Poor Radar has been de-prioritised because of necessity.
So what can I take from this? Well, I have done absolutely everything I can do about the situation today, with Matt gone. I have tried my best not to let my anxiety get the better of me. I got a clean(er) kitchen out of the deal, even if my back hurts like hell. I hate calling businesses on the phone, but I took the initiative and made the calls and got the estimates. I'm still frustrated, but not as overwhelmed as I felt when the shit first hit the fan this afternoon. When it first happened, I actually felt like cutting. Instead, I took positive action.
Oh, and now it looks like Matt is going to be stuck in Chicago overnight! Great.
Okay, Loki ... I've done my part. How about a hand up, love?
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