lunchie breakie. or don't tell my heart, my achey breaky heart.

this morning the exterminator came back.
all the traps that had enough poison to last a year were empty.

i told him that we'd been finding turquoise droppings, to which he replied enthusiastically, "oh, you have? that's good."

he refilled the poison but didn't clean up the droppings.. why did i think he'd do that? why do i think that it's anyone but my responsibility to clean up after these terrors?

my favorite of his words: "evidently, you had quite a population."

also, jeremy and i have vowed to not discuss our mouse issues with friends who have just joined us for dinner. it's just not nice.

somewhat awkward situation happening as i type: the bench outside our open door at the store has been full all day. there's a girl with sunglasses sitting on the ground beside it. she's looking directly into the store. but i can't see her eyes. is she looking at me? was that actual or imagined eye contact? what should i do? i have a habit of looking when i see movement, which means that every time somebody walks by the store.. yep. potential eye contact again with the sitting girl. oi. this could go on all day.

i'm having barbeque chicken pizza for dinner. can't wait.