We have wasps in our walls. Depending on your experience of wasps you might say, “That’s interesting,” or “Yeah, happens all the time,” or “OHGODOHGOD WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE!” My response is unprintable even for a forum where I don’t often censor myself. I’m a live-and-let-live kinda gal, but I don’t want those things around my cats. And Glinda has even more reason for concern since her cats are older, and one of them has some severe health issues.
I am aware that at this time of year the chances of being stung are minimal unless you fuss with them, which means that Peebie is likely to get stung. Leo, who is big and lazy and covered with so much fur it’s hard to find the cat underneath, is less likely. Me? I don’t want to be stung, but I don’t worry about myself too much. They sting me, they sting me. I’ll survive it. Unless I prove to be deathly allergic, and then… well it’s been nice knowing you all.
So, the upshot is that we’ve got the exterminator coming tomorrow afternoon, and until then, we plan to spray the whole house with a peppermint oil concoction which seems to repel them. Once the nest is inactive we’ll be hanging the fake nests around the house to deter them from coming back. Again, those seem to work from all I’ve read, though you have to be sure to get rid of any active nests. So I’m thinking that we hang them in the fall after the first frost, just to be sure.
Between that, taxes, work, and general health concerns (nothing immanent) my rag is being lost on a semi-regular basis. When I told Glinda I could get the nests and the oil here today I found myself annoyed that she was considering it. It’s not like I hadn’t considered it, but once I had, I decided that more consideration was just dithering. I’m annoyed because, like me, she’s worried that the insecticide he uses might hurt the cats. I’m annoyed because when someone else worries about the same thing, it makes it real. Until then, you can say, “Just stop, this is nonsense.”
Yes, I’m irrational lately.
I’m so irrational that I look at photos of other places, like Amsterdam and Iceland, and think that if I could just move there, everything would be fine. Except I know it won’t. Wasps can still move into my house even if my house is somewhere else (Unless it’s a place without wasps or at least ones who aren’t rude enough to try to move in with you, rent free. Is there such a place and where do I find this paradise?) and I’ll still have all the other problems like wondering why nobody sees what a fucking genius I am.
I can’t run away from my life. It’s not possible. For one thing, I’m 65 and broke down. When you say “Getting old sucks” to someone who is not old, they always say, “It beats the alternative.” Does it really? Do you have empirical evidence to prove it?
I don’t normally blame anyone else for the way my life turned out. But today I’m blaming the wasps, and they can just suck it.