Tuesday, July 01, 2008
They're not the only ones who are afraid to go into the kitchen though. I can barely bring myself to cross the threshold now even in daylight and after dark I'm just too terrified to go in there. I can't stand this. I know the refrigerator has to be moved and the holes found (the traps next to the fridge are the ones getting all the action) but I can't move the fridge myself. Not only can I not move it alone, but if I move it and there's, like, a rat king in there I will die, I tell you, I will just fucking die right then and there and then my useless dogs will be left homeless, not to mention my son, if he ever comes back from the apparently completely alluring mid Atlantic region and, also, the QOB will have to find someone else to schedule her doctor's appointments, so, you see, it's not a terribly convenient time for me to shuffle off this mortal coil.
I feel like an idiot and a wimp but I also feel like I need some help here. What I need is an army of big tough macho spitting men with bats and maces and pointed sticks and maybe elephant guns and shit to go into the garage and pull everything out and kill the army of rats who my paranoid self is sure will cascade out of every box and rubbermaid container out there. The very thought makes me nearly hysterical so I'm thinking about advertising on Craigslist for some mercenaries or temporarily unemployed members of the French Foreign Legion to come over and deal with these rats. Which probably won't work either. Oh god, oh god.