Mr. Clean

I have a theory that you can tell how close you are to the centre of the city by the size of the vermin. I found a cockroach in my apartment a couple of months back… it was on the floor of the bathroom not very far from some cracks in the tile, so I assume it was just a lone soldier that happened to lose its way from someone else’s place. I keep a pretty tidy apartment overall (much cleaner than the rooms I occupied while living at university, which all resembled various forms of ecological disasters, as my former roommates can attest to) so I’ve managed to stay almost entirely pest-free except for that one incident.

That roach was pretty small, though, like ones I’d seen in Toronto. I am much, MUCH more frequently confronted with much, MUCH larger ones at our office in downtown Manhattan. I am very squeamish about bugs, and these uber-cockroaches give me the utter creeps. They can be bold, too: I met one scampering down the brightly-lit hall outside the elevator right towards me once. Then there are the creatures I see from time to time on the subway platforms… *shudder*. I don’t know how I’d handle living in parts of the world where the cockroaches get even bigger and can do things like fly. Not particularly well, I imagine.

My parents and brother are coming to visit and stay with me for a weekend in early October. I am in the bizarre and unusual situation of not entirely dreading their coming. The truth is it will be nice to see some familiar faces outside of work, classes and rehearsals, in spite of the inevitable recrimination, guilt and frustration that comes with it. Plus I know they will want to take me out to fancy restaurants, which there is no shortage of here.

But man, am I ever going to have to clean my apartment the weekend before they arrive. Sometimes being cockroach-free just ain’t enough…


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