The alarm rang at 6:20 to give me a warning shot — two more hours of sleep, it was to announce, and i would hit the hour button twice and then fall asleep curled up at the foot of the bed. However, when i reached the foot of the bed i couldn’t even begin to recall what the order the buttons were in, and every time i though i had the “set alarm” button under my thumb i instead had the “sleep” button, which, as near as i can tell, just blares talk radio higher than the current volume setting for 60 seconds. I’m not sure what that has to do with sleep, but eventually i just yanked the plug out of the well and decided to go it alone. Sleep, that is.

Of course, i am far from alone, because October is our house’s official Pest Month. Subsequently, i was thoroughly (and with much alarm)awoken by the current pest troika. First, i was nudged towards consciousness by squirrels performing rodent ballet on my roof, which i guess is not nearly as bad as when the one fell through Lindsay’s ceiling, but that’s not my story to tell. Next, the tiny mouse that has taken up residence in the eaves of the roof ran out of it’s bolt hole that is, apparently, about three inches from the foot of the bed. Suffice to say, discovering that a rodent has set up a proverbial welcome mat within spitting distance sent me into quite a frenzy, and back up to the head of the bed. And, finally, the coup de grace came from the single indestructible fly that has taken control of my room since i arrived at home last week with two cans of RAID Home and Garden spray and emptied them into the air of my room (mmm, carcinogens). He circled my head three times (just long enough for me to be mildly aware of the buzzing, and then proceeded to dive bomb my ear repeatedly until i ran, screaming, from my bedroom to the bathroom.

To wash my ear, of course. And, so, here i am.

You have to understand, it isn’t that my room is dirty, or filled with pest-sized treats, it’s just that we live in West Philly, and when it starts to get cold outside all these little buggers want in, and as a renter there’s only so much i can do about the integrity of our battlements, so to speak. And, yes, we’ve tried traps and sprays and sticky pieces of paper — the whole nine yards, but for every one we kill there’s another one that wants in.

Anyway, at least i’m up.