A scratching on the door interrupts me just as I'm about to write (not strictly true, as I have no idea what I'm about to type - the past day was only mildly interesting: an eye appointment, a bunch of kava drunk, a strange dream about saving a mouse that turns into a small dog, TV watched and ignored, Indian food consumed - none of it seems worthy). I open the door to the bedroom where I've exiled myself while Katie tears apart the house in a process that is as much about mental health as it is about interior decoration, and explain the nature of my dilemma to her.
"If you need inspiration, I could use your help doing some little stuff before we have to move the big pieces," she says. When I demur, she picks up the rug and recommences dragging it down the hall, shouting, "Dicks!"
Showing posts with label cleaning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cleaning. Show all posts
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Friday, April 25, 2008
4-25-08 In which I find out that, in fact, it is not as dire as it seemed
Darnell, who calls himself the "assistant-super", is a skinny, older black man who lives across the hall from me. He wears glasses, a baseball cap, and most of his teeth are kind of a mess, but he's always ready with a smile and some sort of vaugely comprehensible greeting.
When I got home last night, I decided to ask him what went down yesterday morning, and he told me that the couple down on the second floor who always seem to be screaming at each other about something or other decided to really go at it, and the woman apparently went upside her man's head, and somebody went to jail, and somebody went to a shelter.
"It's just disrispecful," said Darnell, indignantly, "'cus they don' havta clean up the blood, I do!"
When I got home last night, I decided to ask him what went down yesterday morning, and he told me that the couple down on the second floor who always seem to be screaming at each other about something or other decided to really go at it, and the woman apparently went upside her man's head, and somebody went to jail, and somebody went to a shelter.
"It's just disrispecful," said Darnell, indignantly, "'cus they don' havta clean up the blood, I do!"
Sunday, January 6, 2008
1-6-08 Destroy all Cockroaches
Though my roommates and I do our level best to keep the kitchen mostly clean, the silverware drawer has, despite our efforts, become infested with roaches, probably because we live in New York City, and, well, that's just what happens.
One of my former roommates, Dave, was a complete neat-freak, and insomniac to boot, so I have the sneaking suspicion that he was the one who kept us roach-free. As an example of his dedication to the eradication of vermin, one week he stayed up till dawn three nights in a row in order to catch (and later release out into its natural habitat - the garbage cans behind our building) a single mouse that had moved in with us.
I threw open the drawer, can of Raid in my hand, and sprayed down the skittering little critters with deadly nerve gas, all the while thinking to myself, "We'll retreat to the ship and nuke the site from orbit - it's the only way to be sure."
One of my former roommates, Dave, was a complete neat-freak, and insomniac to boot, so I have the sneaking suspicion that he was the one who kept us roach-free. As an example of his dedication to the eradication of vermin, one week he stayed up till dawn three nights in a row in order to catch (and later release out into its natural habitat - the garbage cans behind our building) a single mouse that had moved in with us.
I threw open the drawer, can of Raid in my hand, and sprayed down the skittering little critters with deadly nerve gas, all the while thinking to myself, "We'll retreat to the ship and nuke the site from orbit - it's the only way to be sure."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)