Two things I hate are termite inspections, and skin cancer checks. The first because I have a dread of termites, something that eats your house is terrifying*, and they've had a nibble on this place a few times. The termite guy always drives Ernie crazy, so there's barking, and growling. The second because I invariably have to get something cut out – I know, I know, better that then dying from a nasty old melanoma. Had both today, checks, not termites or melanomas.
So was pretty stressed, the dog barked, I worried about a couple of odd looking moles, but both inspections were all clear. No termites, and a new treatment put in, and no cancers. Didn't have to get a single thing cut off, out or frozen away.
What's more I managed to actually get some writing done: might be that I'm really enjoying the thing I'm writing, eh.
* Diana takes a much more sensible approach, shrugs and says "Whatever." For me it's the end of the world, I feel dirty. Termites, the headlice of the homeowning set.