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!
For those of you who have no idea where or what Allston is, it is one of those super sketchy areas right outside a city that aren’t close enough to have large business and parks, but not so far out that it is the suburbs. It is the part of the city where they put the poor minorities, the criminals, and the broke college kids. I am one of the latter. We can characterize most of the people in the area as wanna-be hippies with a short attention span when it comes to work, but a propensity to being a dick about music, clothing, and general lifestyle choices. Not that it is always a bad thing, there are a few very talent musicians, artists, and genuinely intelligent people, but most of them just like to think that they are.
Since moving in I have been asking myself the same question over and over. How did I get here? The answer is simple, I really didn’t want to go home and my family isn’t exactly rolling in the cash, so I had to find a place I could afford with a minimum wage job. For any of you who have tried to support yourself in Boston, you know minimum wage jobs are not enough to afford any type of classy apartment, or any apartment for that matter. Boston is apparently one of the most expensive cities to live in, a fact I was not fully aware of when I chose to go to school here. Minimum wage here is a whole 25 cents higher than from where I come from, so that should be enough to cover the $500 spike in rent prices.
I did what any poor single person does to get cheap housing; I got on Craigslist and moved into the cheapest apartment I found. The current tenants interviewed me and a few other applicants and for some reason I was picked. I have this sinking feeling it was because the other people they interviewed didn’t have jobs and they were a little nervous about having a person who wouldn’t be able to make rent. I moved in last week and have already realized that this will be one of the great stories of my college years, so I thought I should anonymously share it with anyone who happens to ever stumble upon my blog. This is my story.