The battle rages on. There seem to be fewer fruit flies today, which could mean that yesterday's Bleach Attack was succesful. There is nothing open in my kitchen. The bananas and onions are in ziploc bags. The cabinet in question is still empty, its contents all over the kitchen table. Really, I can't bear to spend any time in there.Mr. Vegan is still opposed to the use of chemicals, which would be fine by me -- I don't want to use them either -- if he would take some initiative and come up with some natural way to move the flies outside. But he doesn't do that; he just registers his displeasure at the thought of my spraying something, anything. Bah. I can live in the house or the flies can; I'd think that after being married for a thousand years, he'd pick me. I don't recall his making any vows with flies. But in the vacuum created by his lack of action, I'll spray tomorrow, if I still need to. He's teaching tomorrow night and R will be going to her night job, so I'll have plenty of opportunity to lock up the cats, cover and/or remove everything, spray, and clean up afterwards.
The timing, as I say, sucks because tomorrow is the day I go back to work. The flies, if they were going to be here, couldn't have come a week earlier? When I would have had a day home to do all this crap and even call an exterminator if I need to?
BTW, according to all the websites I've looked at, this is how you can tell if what you've got are actually fruit flies: fruit flies have red eyes. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Heigh-frickety-ho. The superintendent's meeting with the whole district starts at 9 AM. Last year, this was even more ghastly than ever before. And for me, that's going some. Because the former SoS (Superintendent of Schools) was the FIL, and he would start the meeting every year by singing the praises of his grandchildren (yes, it was sweet) and I would want to die of embarrassment (it was also embarrassing.) But this guy, oh god, last year as we all sat there antsy to start work, he had four different groups of kids from the different schools perform. Who needs that; can we just get to work? And this year, the meeting's not in the high school, because we no longer have enough parking, what with the construction, so we have to truck over to the one the middle schools and then get back for our own school meeting, which will no doubt run over into lunch time. Feh.
[Feh. Not so much a Yiddish word as it is an expression of disgust commonly used by Yiddish-speaking people.]
As for me, my alarm is set. My clothes are laid out. I've got a bit of extra time tomorrow as opposed to a normal day, so I may try to squeeze in a walking video before I go.
Feh.
