I don't think I've ever told you about our Pest Guy. To say he's creepy is an understatement, but nearly every time I see him I wind up with a story to tell.

If you want to keep the scorpions out of your house here, then you need to spray for crickets (because they're the main menu for scorpions, apparently) pretty frequently. So Pest Guy comes every other month. And in his defense, he knows what he's doing because when other pest guys from his office come we wind up with crickets.

Anyway. So Pest Guy usually comes on the weekends, but I screwed something up once and he wound up coming one day when I was working from home. So as he's doing his bug thing around the house I'm sitting at my desk doing editor/writer stuff and he asks what it is that I do.

"I'm an editor," I tell him.

"Oh really. Do you work on books? Because I'm working on a book called How To Kill the President," he says.

And I think he's totally kidding, but after a little conversation that included me saying things like, "It's kind of hard to market a book like that," I realize he's totally serious!

Anyway, so ever since then I've been a little more guarded around him. I considered asking for someone else to spray the house, but the guy knows what he's doing despite his dry sense of humor and freakish personality.

OK, so point is that he came to spray the other day while I was working from home. My house is in a constant state of turmoil and usually looks like it just threw up on itself. The downstairs is usually fairly presentable, but if anyone wanted to come upstairs and Heaven forbid see the master bedroom I'd be mortified.

But, you guessed it, he was in there before I could say anything. And then I figured it's better to not have scorpions in our bedroom than for Pest Guy to see the laundry hamper.

So as he's walking behind me to go back downstairs he says something about my insulin pump. And I completely freak out because I'm wondering what the hell I left out in my room or my bathroom that would signal that I wear a pump and OhmyGod he was snooping! And then he says "Or is that a pager?" and I realize he actually noticed Toohey on my pants pocket.

Wow! Someone actually noticed my pump and then said something to me about it! Holy wow! OK maybe I got a little too excited about that.

So we wound up having a pretty decent conversation about pumps and how he knows what they are and who he knows who wears one and blah, blah, blah. Despite me thinking he's still pretty freaky, it was a rather nice little conversation.