Sanctuary

Is it really too much to ask that the gods stop violating the sanctity of my home? It's bad enough that when I venture forth into the world I'm forced to humor the sparkling personality of whatever oldish, bespeckled smurf trying to talk to me instead of getting the rippling triceps and six-pack abs that should adorn my prince charming. But when I enter the door to my kingdom, I have but one small request... No Ugly Creatures May Enter Here.

In my ideal world, if the neighbors decide to redo the roofing on their house, no spiders would pop up by my couch, next to my sink, in my bed. And they definitely wouldn't return 3 days in a row in sheer defiance of their promised demise at the end of a vacuum cleaner hose. Why can't roofing projects cause cute bunny rabbits to peek inside my apartment, slide across my floor like Thumper across the ice in "Bambi," before scampering off to frolick with other cute woodland creatures? Really, if an animal doesn't "scamper" then it just has no business being in my apartment.