Sometimes we get lost in the small things and the habits of our past.
There’s an inspection at the apartment today. House A.
I found out about it about it last night when I finally got home after visiting The Dreamer. Sometimes I feel like our worlds don’t collide anymore. She said I looked “defeated”. Maybe. Maybe not.
There was a note on the door stating that a pest company was going to come and spray our rooms (not just ours, but everybody’s) and that we needed to move our stuff.
Also, another word that stood out in my childhood: Inspection.
My family wasn’t particularly strict compared to other families I knew, but I always knew they were overprotective. Some of the things that they did could be considered strict, I suppose.
For one thing they spanked us, which I am now very much against. But this isn’t a post about spanking.
They also said things that hurt us, and we said things that hurt them. But this isn’t a post about words that hurt.
This is a post about Inspections.
My father always had one word to describe my room: “a pigsty” (and two to describe my hair: “a rat’s nest”).
Every once in a while, particularly if we were having people over we would do what most people call “Spring Cleaning” in the course of a few hours.
We would sweep, mop, and vacuum the floors, Windex the windows, mirror, and sliding glass doors, clean all the dishes and wipe down the counters, take out the trash, wash all the laundry, change all the beds, and straighten our rooms (aka usually throwing everything in the closet if we could get away with it).
No wonder Mom didn’t like having people over. 😛
My brother almost always got a better score than me on Inspections, and I usually had to go back and do it again, which is devastating when you’ve just been trying your hardest to clean for the last few hours. The Monk says it’s because I rush things and I would do better if I spend more time doing it right. Maybe so.
Over the course of the day lists of the tasks would be handed out orally or on paper and we would continue to be updated on our progress (or what wasn’t getting done) and how much time we were wasting.
They did try to make it fun when we were younger, with a “shuffle dance” to dry the floor, but the allure wore off after a couple of years.
Still, it must have stuck somewhere, because when I hear the word “Inspection” it sends me into a tizzy.
Maybe it’s because my grandfather was in the military and my mom had it so much harder than me with Inspections, so she just passed down a “softer” version to us.
(None of these are him.)
I don’t know.
Anyways, this particular inspection today came at a very inopportune time. 😛
You see, we’ve all (in All 3 Houses!) been sick for the last week and haven’t been able to get much done around the house. I was feeling a little better the night before last and went on a tissue-hunting mission to straighten the living room, but besides that…nada.
Anyways, thankfully I had finally almost beaten this cold and got quickly to work.
First, a word about Chemical Companies and Pest Control.
As you can probably tell by my blog, I’m very into all natural, organic living (when possible). Now, that someone would barge into someone’s home and spray chemicals around their pets and children without their consent is morally reprehensible to me.
I mean, I suppose you give your consent when you sign the lease. Maybe.
But there are small children here, babies even, and I’m sure children and adults with allergies worse than mine! How could they not even ask what kind of household you’re running or whether you are ok with this happening in your home? What if one of these children is literally deathly allergic to one of these “pest control” chemicals? Would the apartment be held liable? Would the company? Would any amount of money be able to replace or compensate for the loss of life? No. Seriously people. Common sense. >.>
Even people who don’t live in these apartments are kind of outraged. Why can’t they just spray around the outside? Why do they have to spray IN YOUR ROOMS?
Anyways, I’ll stop ranting.
So to protect myself and my stuff I scooped up anything that I thought could be affected by the chemicals and whisked them off into my closet, cleaned all the dishes, moved my fish, wiped down the counters, cleaned the bathroom, and cleaned the living room.
Unfortunately we don’t even have Windex, and I didn’t have time to vacuum or sweep or mop. I was about to pass out because I half-way forgot that I’m still technically sick and need to eat something before 9 pm so I called The Philosopher and he said he would finish the rest.
So I took my fish to Apartment B and chilled out there the rest of the evening, finally getting the floors finished this morning before class.
Now, a word about Fish and Pest Control.
I’m lucky that they told us. My parents weren’t so lucky. They had the great displeasure of watching 5 fish-tanks worth of saltwater fish die slowly over a week after an unannounced Pest Raid when they were my age. Their stories definitely play up my anxieties.
Something should be done about this, but I’m not sure what. I guess I just have to go with it because that’s how apartment life works.
Has this ever happened in your apartment? Can I do anything? What other kinds of pest control are available?