Creepy crawlies

Warning: I'm tired and cranky and my head hurts and this post is lame and has lots of commas. But I'm writing it anyway.

Our apartment complex has had an infestation of German cockroaches. Luckily, these aren't what you think of when you hear the word "roach;" they're more like small moths. But they are bugs and the complex scheduled exterminators. To prepare, we had to remove everything from our kitchen and bathrooms and wipe out all cabinets. One would think that two young women who have amassed two dozen moves between them in the 10 years since leaving for college would be minimalists. More nomads than hoarders. Well...

Exhibit A:

Everything from my bathroom, in the shower stall, covered with a sheet. Which is what they told us to do.

And which is all still in my shower stall, covered with a sheet, at 10 p.m., as I put off taking a shower because I don't want to deal with it.

Exhibit B:

Everything in our kitchen moved to the living room.

Everything in our kitchen moved to the living room and covered with sheets. 

It kind of reminds me of when my mom bakes bread each year and covers the rolls with sheets. Except our apartment smells like bug spray, not bread, and when we take the sheets off, it's just going to be all our stuff, out of place.


For reference, this is our kitchen, which holds a lot more than we realized, apparently.

To be fair to my roommate, the majority of this junk is mine, and if anyone would qualify as a hoarder, it would be me. But if anything is driving me to be more of a nomad minimalist, it's definitely the thought of having to put all this stuff away. I don't like being a grown up.