Russell Jenkins heard (?) saw (?) something under the cabinet. I’m afraid it’s a silverfish. If it were a mouse, I’d be okay, but we don’t have mice. Silverfish, on the other hand — well we’re not that far from the water, and we are in an old, plaster-walled building on the first floor, so I’ve seen some in my time.
He’s been like this:
…for the last 10 minutes. [ASIDE — I don’t boil water in my living room, that hot pot is there because of a failed attempt at bottle cutting craft this weekend.]
Anyway, I can’t even pay attention to what was supposed to be the best night ever on TV, the reboot of Inspector Lewis on PBS. There are no commercials (damn you, publicly funded television!), so I can’t run to the corner store (a 1:30 trip if I’m fast) and get RAID. And, the worst part about it is, even if the little bastard comes out from under the cabinet, if his performance in the fly-catching arena is any indication, RJ ain’t hardly gonna’ catch that thing.
I’d like to stop thinking about it, but RJ’s vigilance won’t let me. It’s gonna’ be a long night…