City Morgue.

I live in a filthy home of filthy piggy filth.
I'm exaggerating of course, but you get my point.

On to the facts: I've become sort of a clean freak, due to having guests all the time and not wanting them to think I'm a piggy /having nothing much to do other than hanging out in my house and liking it to be clean while I do so /living someplace hot as hell and not wanting to feel sticky AND dirty.

But my neighbors who just moved, who I shared a wall with, were little filthy piggies, and their entire floor [ENTIRE FLOOR] had to be ripped up so the apartment could be sprayed for roaches.
And what do roaches do when their home is suddenly noxious? Why, they move into Stephanie's squeaky-clean bug-free home and set up shop. Lovely things have happened lately, such as:

1. I opened a cupboard for a plate for my sandwich last night and a roach turned and looked at me quizzically, as if to say "What are you doing in my cupboard?"
2. While putting on my makeup before work a roach crawled along the ceiling and stopped [I swear] to watch me put on eyeliner before wandering away into the ceiling.
3. I have found them in my underwear drawer even. They like my panties.

Not to mention Ivan had fleas [he got bathed/combed yesterday, but I am going to do it again today after the Total House Cleaning that's taking place currently] and I came home yesterday to discover my floor mysteriously covered in maggots.
Mysteriously. There was no trash around, nothing.
Okay, there was one popsicle wrapper, not even 24 hours old, sitting on the rug.
I've had to throw out all the rugs. I'm trying hard to salvage Odin's roadway rug, but we'll see what happens.

So far today I've cleaned out the entire inside of the sofa [I even shook that bitch upside down, got the bedrooms pre-emptively vacuumed, and gotten two loads of the ton of laundry done. I've got to take down the drapes, clean out the DVD dresser [that the new giant TV that Jon brought me sits upon] to make sure no buggies live inside it, clean the fuck out of the windows, take down everything on the shelves and dust like crazy, and then sweep the floor and scour that bitch.
And then I must move on to the next room [which is NOT the kitchen, I can't handle that until later, when the heat goes down a little bit. Not to mention that's where the buggies are the worst so I may as well drive the rest of them there first, right? Who wants a deluge of bugs running all over back and forth all day long?]

If only I could find that long-lost ten dollar bill so I could buy an additional can of roach spray! I have two cans that are one-third full, plus a can of flying insect spray for the fruit flies.
High-five being friends with the Apartment Manager. Dr. Landlord isn't fazed by roaches in the least; This is no big thing for him.

For me, it's been a vomit-fest since day one.