Archive for roach infestation

Mama Roach’s Last Resort

Posted in bipolar disorder, gofundme campaign with tags , , , , on August 27, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

So…In a hypo-manic state after burying my dead cats, washing dishes, sweeping, vacuuming, washing laundry, folding and putting away laundry (kid is at church, very productive time)…I revamped my fundraiser page.

You can click that pic and it will take you there. I cut back on the long winded ‘my story’ part. I tossed in some heavy metal flavored humor. I posted the pic from last night and then thought, oh, god, people will see that and say, ‘no wonder she has bugs.” Fact is, the ceilings were that discolored when we moved in 8 years ago and if the landlord considers fixing your heat a hindrance, your ceiling color isn’t getting fixed.

Still, you can see the bugs are just moving into new corners as soon as the efficacy of the spray wears off. I knew something was up when we moved in and I noticed all the corners had big pieces of scotch tape on them. I of course took it down…But the previous tenants had done that in an effort to seal off the bugs’ entrance. Which means the bug problem is this particular lot/court, not each individual.

Anyway…Click it, don’t click it, you may get a laugh even if you can’t donate or you can pass it on. Now my hypomania is fading fast because soon my kid will be home, and soon, the next battle will begin. This morning it was 20 minutes of her lamenting that I wouldn’t put mascara on her because she suddenly decided her lashes make her look ugly. I don’t know what’s coming next, with her, or with me. That I haven’t gone homicidal kinda makes me think I deserve a kick ass superhero name. Snarkasma is cool and all, but perhaps…When I am being really bad ass in spite of everything being shit…


No? Meh.


Grossed Out By Roaches? Ours don’t even pay rent!

Posted in bipolar disorder with tags , , , , , on August 9, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

YEP. I am doing the FUNDRAISER THING because our landlord won’t pay for an exterminator and my limited budget has maxed out on OTC bug killer. So before you judge me as as being skanky or dirty or whatever…


That link again is

Single mom, on disability because of brain damage, minimal child support slumlord neighobor and we..simply need help, $5, a repost, share, spread the word on social media…we are an 1/8th of the way donation wise to being able to get a pro bug slaying company to kill off these unwanted pests.

On the bipolar/anxiety front…I did dishes, swept, srubbed, cleaned the bathroom, scrubbed freezer and fridge (amazing how stone cold fury motivates, my kid has a knack for startind drama amongst her trailer park friends and I have the audio files of her kicking, screaming, name calling, and punching walls to prove how awful she is when told the word “no” and all the older girl did was come tell me Spook had lied to me where she was going to be and was in an area where she could get hurt, but in Spookland, that;s being a traitor, thus I guess I have myself a Trumpling.)

Very atressful day. Then my new phone was working ‘right’ while R hunted me down cos he’s getting his real job back and wants me at the shop tomorrow so I got bitched out by him even though I WAS replying to his texts but turns out…smart phone requires you dial 1 plus area code plus number, which I didn’t know and pegacorn knows how much of my prepaid time was wasted on that crap…

I agreed to appear tomorrow, though not with a huge chip on my shoulder. I have to take the spawn with me and it’s…more stress than I need but whoaa, he gave me a car stereo and installed it thus I apparently owe him shop tending AND a kidney…

Rubber Ramada ain’t looking so bad as it would keep these toxic beings away from me….

I am toughing it out cos I have witnesed the loyalty of my handful of friends who even if they can’t donate, share the link to my campaign. I don’t want to lose you guys, love you all to smithereens.

Soooooooooooooooooooo…IF you can spare five or ten in my effort to evict and eradicate the roaches so no one calls me a bad mom for being broke….Please please please. If you can just repost, share, or pass it on on social media….Please. If not for me, but for my kid because I damn well know 99.8% of people cringe if visiting and they see a single bug. WE didn’t choose this but if I can’t spring $500 for the Orkin man, I sure as hell can’t afford first month and deposit and moving fees and utility trasnfer fees to get a better address/home.

And now…melatonin/Xanax combo is telling me it’s beddy bye as I have to be up at the crack of ass to go to the shop and repay his highness for the car stereo and his labor installing it.

Some people make us with mental issues think Rubber Ramadas seem pretty damned appealing.


To The Brink

Posted in bipolar disorder with tags , , , , , on August 8, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

Once again…My kid and I are sick of living in a roach motel so even if you have it in your heart to skip a $5 mocha foamy hazelnut coffee-esqe six pumps no fat cuppa whatever to donate or simply SPREAD MY CAMPAIGN ON SOCIAL MEDIA…Please. And YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, every single person who has shivered at the sight of a bug inside someone’s home and been repulsed yet done nothing but pass judgement as opposed to trying to help with the problem…Yeah, those people. I know those people real well, they’re called family and friends. Too ready to judge, but unwilling to even throw a $4 bottle of boric acid my way.

Not that it works, I’ve been making pastes and traps and sprinkling the concoction, it’s like putting a Snoopy bandage on a chainsaw inflicted wound.

Oh, yes, I have my bitch on. Because after two and a half months of my kid being home and the last four days of birthday part(ies) misery and all her kids bickering and I ruined her life because the devil girls’ dad won’t let them play with her because I am monster…

Forgive me if my manners are out the window. I am two steps from signing into a rubber Ramada. My self esteem has tanked because if this roach motel is the best I can do for my kid, she probably deserves better than me. And it’s all about the damned money, not my inability to care for her or unwillingness to work to be rid of the problem. Always with the damned $$$$ and it’s NOT BLOODY FAIR to be judged as some sleazeball or lousy parent just because every cent you do have goes into feeding and clothing and sheltering and transporting the child to school.

For those who think only slobs who are dirty get bugs, think the fuck again. My sister, The Queen Of OCD Clean, still had to hire Orkin for their old house because old houses have cracks and crevices and bugs move in and eviction notices don’t work for them. So sick of the judgments and assumptions. Amazing people couldn’t wait to donate when it was for vet care for a sick pet. I love my animals and am eternally grateful to everyone who helped when they needed them.

But three days in and not a single donation when I am trying to provide a more fit home for my child?

People have some bizarre priorities.

And don’t get my over stressed panicky bitchiness wrong…I realize 99% of my friends are struggling same as me. What they (you) have that I don’t is that social networking thing. I loathe Facebook and just to start an account to beg for donations seems shadier than Zuckerberg himself. So I thought I’d reach out and say “Look, this problem is so bad they could deem me an unfit parent just for being broke” but…Two people have given an inkling they care even if by simply reposting or empathizing.

I guess I’m just that unlikeable, I don’t know. If unlikeable is a synonym for “frustrated, depressed, a nervous wreck, and pissy that the world is a vapid place of judgment and little empathy”…Yep.

I am the devil.

It will get better once she goes back to school and my anxiety lessens. The bugs will start to move out once it gets cold a few months from now, I can keep putting ineffective Snoopy bandages on and…

I never should have started the campaign, I knew it would just leave me more depressed and disillusioned. Like this glaring reminder that if I were more socially skilled, more of a social butterfly, I’d have people who cared and would share even a repost or whatever or hell, even a “I’m glad I’m not you, Morgue, that shit sucks”. Alas, I am just…me. No social skills, no job, nothing special going on…

WAIT! I know YOU! That’s the depressive self pity talking. Yeah, well, go to hell, self pity. I am in a lousy situation but I am a decent person 89.9% of the time and I try 110% for my kid all the time. So if being dealt a lousy hand in life means I’m a loser, then I know I am far from alone because outside of the 1 percenters…Most have their crosses to bear and it doesn’t make them bad people. Least they don’t have to share mental space with The Depressivce Self Pity Monster, though.

Jerk doesn’t even pay rent.