The scaffolders hate me. Have they been reading my diary? Do they say to each other, "She's misrepresenting us as a bunch of too loud sleep watchers!" while they noisily watch me sleep? What happened is, the only two windows I had left were taken away, and hanging outside of them, hanging all the way down from the edge of the roof, is a giant mobile people-shelf. It is going to kill me! The mobile people-shelvers draw stupid faces in the film that their drilling leaves on my windows, and when will the rain come and wash it away? The only consolation is that mobile people-shelves are a lot less permanent than actual scaffolding. I should be grateful that there are no proper scaffolding points on the ground beneath those windows, or I'd be boxed in forever. Are there such things as proper scaffolding points? Is that an engineering term? Anyway, life now revolves around getting up and out as early as possible, and hoping that by tomorrow I'll have at least those two windows back. Hopefully by tomorrow I'll get to stop timing my showers carefully so as to avoid having scaffolders practically in the bathroom with me, handing me my towel.

Earlier tonight I went into the kitchen and was shocked still by a huge horrifying bug, to which I said, quite loudly, "What are you?" It didn't say anything back, so after a few frantic moments of trying to guide it towards the open window, I gave up and killed it. I feel awful, but I just had to. The idea of it disappearing into the apartment to secretly live with me was too much. Just after that the doorbell rang and as I was still bug shaken, I jumped a bit. My doorbell never just rings, people don't just show up unannounced. It was the exterminator, and in my head I was shouting, "How did you know?" but aloud I said, "But I didn't..," and he said, "Are you sure?" It turned out he was off by a floor, and we parted friends, but maybe I should have kept him.

It's just not good. I told Michael I'd go tomorrow, but maybe he won't feel like it. He and the Captain had a long weekend, so maybe he'll just want to go home and sleep. I should stay home and clean. There are piles of trouble everywhere, and it's making me grumpy. I just want to have a nice day, just want one of these days to turn nice this week. Maybe by the weekend I'll feel a bit sorted out. The months go by too quickly, and I don't know how to keep up with myself. In the back of my head I think, "It wouldn't be this way if I were a better person," but no one ever taught me how. Oh, crumb, it's not so bad. My radio reception is pretty good and I think I'll be able to sleep tonight. Soon.