Basically, I'm living in Tyler Durden's house.

I've been living in this flat for about 7 weeks, and the honeymoon period is well and truly over.  Haven't caught the mouse yet, or at least I hadn't when I checked the trap this morning.  I can't bring myself to go into the kitchen even though I'm ravenously hungry, because I don't know what I'll see.  The bathroom pipes groan fractiously whenever someone takes a shower, flushes the toilet, or runs the faucet in the sink for longer than 3 seconds.  The TV satellite has achieved sentience and shows however many channels it feels like showing - anywhere from none at all to the 100+ we're supposed to get.  At the moment, it's getting 6.  I have bug bites all over my legs, and I don't know where they're coming from.  I don't think they're bedbug bites because they're not red and livid enough to be, but I'm only ever barelegged while in bed, so it seems like a logical explanation, unless there's a very determined mosquito in my room (also possible).  The downstairs kitchen floor is just filthy and has been since the day I moved in - the kind of filthy that we'd have to move the appliances out of the way to clean properly.  In my mind, this is the renting agency's job, and they clearly haven't done it in ages, if ever.

My lease is up in the first week of March, and I've already decided to move out.  Gotta stick it out until then, though.

Cheers, y'all.