Bugs--Isn't That A Spy Gadget?

Yesterday, I pulled up carpet from the rental. How exciting ;-). The thing is, that carpet is barely half a year old and it looks like...a pack of animals had rumbled through it over and over. Sigh. I wonder whether the ex-tenants treat their own stuff this carelessly.

My first rental down here was a small apartment by the beach. I remember the carpet well. It was that puke-green, duck-shit color that blend in so well with age. LOL. I couldn't stare at it everyday without thinking about how my life was turning out like my carpet, so one day I went behind a carpet store and got permission to pull out their discarded inventory in the back that they were throwing out. I bought my first straight-blade knife (boxcutter to you) and cut this roll down to the size I wanted. My living room was a nice ice-blue and my bedroom an off-white. My apartment looked much better and my life started improving...coincidence?

Anyway, it was one of those days when everyone seemed to be calling me on the cell, wanting to meeting me, and generally bugging the heck out of me while I'm trying to do something ;-). I think I received ten phone calls in a matter of half an hour while trying to fold a dirty carpet in half. Ranger Buddy showed up to "help" me, which meant he was bored and needed something to do. Well, at least he provided the muscle to push some heavy stuff out of the way while we cut the carpet into smaller pieces.

Then the cleaning lady I made an appointment with wowed me arriving in a Harley in full leather gear. Somehow, I had this generic image of a van, with a cleaning logo on the side, with a woman in teeshirt and jeans and swinging a mop, LOL. Nope, this was a full-fledged biker-lady. Really cool.

Real estate agents...handy man...people with tapes and clipboards, you get the idea how my day went. So not much writing was done, even though I didn't roof. You know how that goes. I always think that if I don't have to roof that day, I would have LOTS of free time to write! That, apparently, is a myth.

Then in the middle of it all, the male friend, the one who blows up if there is any kind of puter problems his end, called. Of course it's his computer. Of course he couldn't understand a word I was saying (and I'm not that techy). You see, a frustrated male doesn't listen to logic. It always puzzles me why I can communicate with all these people about construction and taxes and legalese, and yet when it comes to the man in my life, it's like talking to the brick wall ;-/.

I'm not done yet. The termite and lawn people are coming today. Life is so full of bugs! Take my bugs, please.

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