Everyone has that point in their life where they want to break down crying and rip apart their mattress… right? I just made the wonderful discovery that my apartment has fallen prey to the most common of poverty stricken maladies. That’s right, I have bed bugs. If you ask my friends who live in their fancy little Beacon Hill apartments or out in the suburbs, you’d think I have the flu or something. They have banned me from coming over for fear that they will “catch the bed bugs.” For those of you who may be unaware, people don’t breath out bed bugs. That’s like saying “whoa your house has a lot of spiders; I can’t let you come over.” I can see bed bugs, they aren’t on top of me all day, even if I feel like they are.
I’ve had a bunch of people I don’t even really know give me their horror stories about bed bugs or their suggestions on how to get rid of them. I didn’t really listen at first because I assumed that when my landlord said he would come and spray, that he would actually come over and spray them. He said this two weeks ago. I wonder if he died or something. That would explain a lot.
The worst part about bed bugs isn’t that there are actual bugs crawling all over your place at night. The worst part is thinking you are covered in bugs all night. I have dreams about bugs eating my face. I check my sheets 10 times in the light and the flash light just to make sure the little demons won’t start out on top of me. You start to think every zip, mosquito bite, and weird colored patches are the result of bed bugs and you are ALWAYS itchy. I have decided that bed bugs are a physiological disease.
Til next time!