In regards to yesterday's irregularity of vermin and foul odors (this is the last time i'm writing about flies):
To God be the glory, the smell left my apartment before yesterday even ended. When I said it started to lessen before I mopped, as time wore on it completely dissipated. Weird, man, just weird. When I told my mom about it today, she asked me if there is anything foul going on in my own life, which may indicate why I would have encountered this whole situation.... I said no. And I'm gonna stick with "no." (What else are you sposed to say to your mother??) Though I acknowledge that I'm not perfect nor do I pretend to be. There's a lot I could change, and even more I'd hope to make better decisions about. Yet I am cognizant of every choice I make and aim to make the right ones in particular circumstances. I fall short though, like er'yone else, sometimes making the easy choice instead of the right one. But a "spiritual manifestation" of foul circumstances in my life is more than I want to think about right now. I can think of something that perhaps has been uncharacteristic of my values and convictions in recent weeks, but I know that I love God more than anyone and that I am thankful for new mercies every morning, as scripture clearly indicates. And I firmly believe in the forgiveness and faithfulness of God. Period. The key in that forgiveness, based on what we believe, is repentance. Repentance means to turn away from. I know that. So if I still make the same mistakes that I've already asked forgiveness for from time to time, am I truly repentant? That will be a rhetorical question; my answer lies in the truth, understanding and faith of my personal relationship with God.
Anyway, I don't want to make this particular episode about spiritual manifestations for personal sins. On a very basic level I am thankful to God that the smell has gone. Because I would not be able to find the cause of it, primarily because I wasn't going to go looking for it. As for the flies.... a few have still lingered. I've shot down at least four over the course of the day, which is significantly less than the militia that invaded my apartment yesterday. My kitchen window is closed now, leaving only the two windows in my living room open. I can't close them because there's no central air or AC in my place. I gotta have fresh air. You know what I mean. But I can't determine if the final few got in from spaces in the screens or if they were just left over from the other day? I hate this.... It's just freakin creepy. Insects [et al] creep me OUT. It's the way it's always been. Unless I undergo electro-shock therapy, that's probably how it will always be. I'll be thirty soon, I can't imagine that I'll all of a sudden be comfortable with the idea of existing with and knowing how and when to kill vermin. No sir.
It's times like these that I hate living by myself.
Where's my husband?
(I firmly believe that it is a part of husbands'/fathers' role to make sure the matters of creepycrawlyflyingsmelly things are taken care of on behalf of the wife/daughter.)