Okay, so a WEEK ago, I went into my room and found a dozen wasps crawling around. Or maybe they’re bees. I don’t know. So, I got the vacuum cleaner and a wet towel and got rid of them. I taped up the gaps in the screen frame. I called the landlord and left a message. I spoke to my neighbour, and to the guys working on the new siding. Oh, yeah. We took out a huge nest. They should leave soon.
THREE DAYS LATER, my landlord leaves me a message. Yeah, they should leave. Call me if they don’t, maybe we need to get professional pest control.
THEN, next day, there’s four more. More tape, more freaking out. Another call to the landlord. Voicemail AGAIN. Yeah, I think we need that pest control, ‘kay?
Today, I came home, and there’s three MORE. These ones aren’t slow and sleepy though, they’re fucking NUTS.
Two more calls to the landlord’s voicemail, quite freaked out and just a lilllll bit strident. Used words like “extremely distressed” and “completely freaking out”.
My next call’s gonna be to my buddy Lisa at the Community Legal Clinic. Something’s gotta give here, before I get stung in my sleep. That would please me, oh, not at all, really.