Wondering where I've been the last 2 weeks? Our new place has roaches. I've been cleaning and killing, cleaning and killing, cleaning and killing, every day after work. The problem is I don't know where they're coming from. We really only see them in the kitchen, but every damn thing in there has been moved, cleaned, bleached, scrubbed, roach sprayed, bleached and cleaned again, Gord caulked all the cracks around the kitchen on the weekend, and there are still one or two of those damn things every night.
Because of the cats, we're using pet friendly roach spray and chinese chalk and I'm about to go to the hardware store for some powder to put in corners and under appliances. I am losing my mind. I can hardly stand to eat in the apartment, even though we've put all our food in tupperware containers. Normally, Gord and I are pretty bug tolerant. Spiders and beetles are scooped up and set gently on the grass outside, moths are left to flutter themselves to death against lightbulbs, and none of these tiny creatures bother me. But there's something repulsive about roaches, and we have become ruthless killers. There's a sick sort of triumph when I spray one and watch it die. But killing them individually isn't fast enough. I need a roach genocide, and I need it now.