After five short months at the house, my husband and I are now being pushed out by our persistent, and non-paying, tenant of death, known to others as the Arizona Scorpion—ugly little bastards with poisonous, sometimes deadly, tails.
Thinking back, we should have moved out the day we realized there was a problem, but due to the fabulousness of the rest of the house—the five burner stove, two offices, a soaking tub—it was easier to hope we could pull through.
Admittedly, the stove’s fancy fifth burner was never used—four is quite enough—and the soak tub was only used as a shower. But I still wasn’t willing to leave my new office which screamed of creative endeavors, and untold literary journeys.
Up and till this house my “office” has been in several un-office-like spaces. Often living rooms, sometimes bedrooms, various coffee shops, the bathroom once. Though, I can’t for the life of me remember why I chose the John for that day. Point is, this office, this space, belonged to me and my books, and I had a hard time letting it go. I knew if I left the house, its new tenant mightn’t be pleased if I dropped by to use the office every day.
Alas, after five months of scorpion hunting, checking the dog’s kennel, my shoes, bed, and underwear for scorpions—yes, underwear. I prefer my privates private and scorpion free—I finally realized, all good things must come to an end. Especially when infested with scorpions.
It is with great sorrow that I spend my last day at this office, before my husband and I move into our new, scorpion-free, two bedroom apartment where we will “share” the office. We’ll be “sharing” for two days, until I find him way too annoying—as husbands often are—and volunteer to move my desk into the living room, kitchen, or possibly the John.
Farewell words to my office: Thanks for the time I got with you. Hope the new tenant spills less coffee on your carpet. Though, considering the carpet is coffee colored, I never saw a problem with it.
Farewell words to the scorpions: Enjoy my house, you fu**ers.