Karma
This entry is soooo random, and now I'm bordering on bringing this blog into the realm of personal diary on display for the world (don't flatter yourself, Chrome), but I'm going to write it anyway.
One of the first things that I noticed about my new roommate when I moved into my flat in Madrid was that he used a LOT of chemicals of some sort. I couldn't figure out at first if they were cleaning chemicals or what, but soon I realized that it was this perfumed bug spray for ants and roaches. We had this period of time that roommate, who doesn't like to take out the trash immediately, would take the trash bag out of the garbage can, cinch it closed, and sit it in the middle of the kitchen floor. That's right - tall kitchen bag of trash... middle of floor... for several days sometimes. I really hate living with people (I don't really like people that much, to be honest), but I've had enough roommates to have developed a little patience. I was just going to wait and hope that he took it out or SOMETHING. Well, the second time that it happened, I noticed that there was a family of ants that had created a trail from the outside deck door to the trash and had completely infested the stale trash bag that was in the middle of the kitchen floor. I was horrified, and immediately walked into the living room, and said in Spanish, "Manuel, the ants are in the trash," in a disgusted voice. He immediately jumped up and ran into the kitchen, and I heard a bunch of activity and spraying of something and then it was quiet. I thought he had taken out the trash, killed the ants, and mopped the floor, but no. When I went into the kitchen later, I saw the trash bag sitting on a chair on the deck and a puddle of bug spray on the kitchen floor with a bunch of dead ants in it. What? I suddenly connected the spraying sound with the chemical smell, and voila, I knew it wasn't cleaning supplies. SO, over time, we have had enough discussions about the trash to at least avert the ant crisis in the kitchen (now he throws it on the deck immediately and leaves it there to rot for 3 days before taking it out).
Well, now that I had this keen new knowledge of the bug spray smell, I started to notice that he sprayed it every night. I couldn't figure out why, as I've only seen bugs on rare occasion, usually when you leave something for them to eat on the floor - hello?! I asked him about it and told him that I thought I was allergic to the spray or something. He said that he sprayed under the front door every night so that bugs did not enter from the hallway. We're on the second floor, which seems like kind of a hike for a roach if you ask me, but he insists that it's the only way they could be coming in. Apparently, he had a couple of scares with big bugs in the bathroom last summer (it never happens in the winter, he said he thinks they come in to get cool). After I told him about my new allergy (I knew that would work), he said that he just needed to get a rug to put in front of the door in the hallway so they couldn't enter and then he could stop the spray. SO, he bought the rug shortly thereafter, and then went on vacation for three weeks.
Since he's been gone, I've seen a couple of the bugs he was talking about. The first time I saw one, it was so large, that the only thing I could think of to do is grab the bug spray. You just don't want to squish something that big... you'll be cleaning it up for the next 2 days... although, you might be able to boil it, and with a little salt, hmmm. Anyway, I sprayed the thing for like 30 seconds in 3 different places where it ran to hide before I finally got it to stop moving. Then, I still waited 2 more days to finally pick it up and flush it down the toilet. I just couldn't bear the thought of picking up it's crunchy little body.
Ah, so, yesterday, I saw another one. Just like his brother, HUGE and ugly and scaring me to death. I tried to be a little more sparing on the bug spray to keep the contamination factor down. Just a couple of squirts until he seemed like he had stopped moving. He was lying on his back and had somehow picked up a dust bunny and was spinning it around with his legs like some sort of animal at the circus, but I shut off the light and went to bed, figuring it was just the final moments.
This morning, I got woken up by these repair guys who rang early (for me, I'm not saying what time). They made all kinds of noise and then left, leaving a mess in the bathroom. I went in to clean up their mess and out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. I was like, "NO, it can't be..." I leaned in closer, and the bug was still spinning the dust bunny with its legs, 8 hours later. I immediately killed it and flushed it down the toilet, but tonight, as I was getting ready for bed, I got the saddest feeling that I made something suffer for so long. I used to kill pretty much whatever without a thought of remorse, but now I've become one of those animal rights types, I guess. I'm not against killing animals for food or something, but definitely into humane methods of euthanasia. Can someone please give me a comment or something telling me that roaches don't have enough of a central nervous system to suffer? I can't bear the thought of a little John or Cindy in there praying to the heavens to make it stop for 8 hours :(
This entry is soooo random, and now I'm bordering on bringing this blog into the realm of personal diary on display for the world (don't flatter yourself, Chrome), but I'm going to write it anyway.
One of the first things that I noticed about my new roommate when I moved into my flat in Madrid was that he used a LOT of chemicals of some sort. I couldn't figure out at first if they were cleaning chemicals or what, but soon I realized that it was this perfumed bug spray for ants and roaches. We had this period of time that roommate, who doesn't like to take out the trash immediately, would take the trash bag out of the garbage can, cinch it closed, and sit it in the middle of the kitchen floor. That's right - tall kitchen bag of trash... middle of floor... for several days sometimes. I really hate living with people (I don't really like people that much, to be honest), but I've had enough roommates to have developed a little patience. I was just going to wait and hope that he took it out or SOMETHING. Well, the second time that it happened, I noticed that there was a family of ants that had created a trail from the outside deck door to the trash and had completely infested the stale trash bag that was in the middle of the kitchen floor. I was horrified, and immediately walked into the living room, and said in Spanish, "Manuel, the ants are in the trash," in a disgusted voice. He immediately jumped up and ran into the kitchen, and I heard a bunch of activity and spraying of something and then it was quiet. I thought he had taken out the trash, killed the ants, and mopped the floor, but no. When I went into the kitchen later, I saw the trash bag sitting on a chair on the deck and a puddle of bug spray on the kitchen floor with a bunch of dead ants in it. What? I suddenly connected the spraying sound with the chemical smell, and voila, I knew it wasn't cleaning supplies. SO, over time, we have had enough discussions about the trash to at least avert the ant crisis in the kitchen (now he throws it on the deck immediately and leaves it there to rot for 3 days before taking it out).
Well, now that I had this keen new knowledge of the bug spray smell, I started to notice that he sprayed it every night. I couldn't figure out why, as I've only seen bugs on rare occasion, usually when you leave something for them to eat on the floor - hello?! I asked him about it and told him that I thought I was allergic to the spray or something. He said that he sprayed under the front door every night so that bugs did not enter from the hallway. We're on the second floor, which seems like kind of a hike for a roach if you ask me, but he insists that it's the only way they could be coming in. Apparently, he had a couple of scares with big bugs in the bathroom last summer (it never happens in the winter, he said he thinks they come in to get cool). After I told him about my new allergy (I knew that would work), he said that he just needed to get a rug to put in front of the door in the hallway so they couldn't enter and then he could stop the spray. SO, he bought the rug shortly thereafter, and then went on vacation for three weeks.
Since he's been gone, I've seen a couple of the bugs he was talking about. The first time I saw one, it was so large, that the only thing I could think of to do is grab the bug spray. You just don't want to squish something that big... you'll be cleaning it up for the next 2 days... although, you might be able to boil it, and with a little salt, hmmm. Anyway, I sprayed the thing for like 30 seconds in 3 different places where it ran to hide before I finally got it to stop moving. Then, I still waited 2 more days to finally pick it up and flush it down the toilet. I just couldn't bear the thought of picking up it's crunchy little body.
Ah, so, yesterday, I saw another one. Just like his brother, HUGE and ugly and scaring me to death. I tried to be a little more sparing on the bug spray to keep the contamination factor down. Just a couple of squirts until he seemed like he had stopped moving. He was lying on his back and had somehow picked up a dust bunny and was spinning it around with his legs like some sort of animal at the circus, but I shut off the light and went to bed, figuring it was just the final moments.
This morning, I got woken up by these repair guys who rang early (for me, I'm not saying what time). They made all kinds of noise and then left, leaving a mess in the bathroom. I went in to clean up their mess and out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. I was like, "NO, it can't be..." I leaned in closer, and the bug was still spinning the dust bunny with its legs, 8 hours later. I immediately killed it and flushed it down the toilet, but tonight, as I was getting ready for bed, I got the saddest feeling that I made something suffer for so long. I used to kill pretty much whatever without a thought of remorse, but now I've become one of those animal rights types, I guess. I'm not against killing animals for food or something, but definitely into humane methods of euthanasia. Can someone please give me a comment or something telling me that roaches don't have enough of a central nervous system to suffer? I can't bear the thought of a little John or Cindy in there praying to the heavens to make it stop for 8 hours :(
posted by Chromest*r at 3:06 AM
2 Comments:
My method at the old apartment was the vaacum cleaner (kind of like that guy from 'Creepshow'). But I didn't have roaches, just ants.
You have to detach yourself because you're essentially performing mass genocide on insects. I didn't kill spiders though, I would 'free' them outside hoping they will tell their buddies there are better places besides apartments. Maybe introduce your roaches to the dumpster??
Well, the truth is that I was actually a large bug in a previous life. Not a roach exactly, but similar. And yes, pain was very real. Very. Real. Like in this life. And all that prejudice; The hate. From everywhere - humans and all manner of living things, all thinking they were superior. Just like in this life.
H~
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