Thursday, June 30, 2005
still jumpy
There are few things on this earth I hate more than bugs. I don’t care if it’s a butterfly, I hate crawly things that much.
Last night when I got into bed, I felt something crawl on my arm. Naturally, I made Ben turn the light on and spent 5 minutes searching my bed. Nothin. So the light is turned off and almost immediately, something bites my foot. Really freaking out now, I pull my legs up and make a noise something close to a scream. Ben turns the light on again and kills the fucker trying to run across the carpet.
I asked him what it was and he told me I didn’t want to know. Well, no I really didn’t. But I had to. As soon as he told me, I started crying. I hate bugs. With a passion. And now my place of residence was invaded, if he was right.
I cried for awhile and couldn’t lie down again. I talked to Kp and told her to step up the apartment search. I felt itchy and really wanted to shower. I made Ben shake out all the pillows and blankets before I would get into bed again, still keeping all my attention on the fact that there could be bugs anywhere and everywhere.
Kp laughed at me for crying and Ben called me paranoid. They just didn’t understand how violated I felt.
I called the home owner up this morning and he ignored me. He said he needed to see one before he could do anything about it. What am I supposed to do? Leave out little snacky-poos and see if they come for tea? Unlikely.
I can’t wait to move.
This morning at work, I was washing my hands and while wiping my hands on the towel, noticed a black thing. I jumped back and tried to tell myself it was a piece of string. But no, it was big, black fucker. The things are stalking me now.
If I could live in a plastic bubble, I just might.
*He’s been known to be wrong before when it comes to bug identification.
Last night when I got into bed, I felt something crawl on my arm. Naturally, I made Ben turn the light on and spent 5 minutes searching my bed. Nothin. So the light is turned off and almost immediately, something bites my foot. Really freaking out now, I pull my legs up and make a noise something close to a scream. Ben turns the light on again and kills the fucker trying to run across the carpet.
I asked him what it was and he told me I didn’t want to know. Well, no I really didn’t. But I had to. As soon as he told me, I started crying. I hate bugs. With a passion. And now my place of residence was invaded, if he was right.
I cried for awhile and couldn’t lie down again. I talked to Kp and told her to step up the apartment search. I felt itchy and really wanted to shower. I made Ben shake out all the pillows and blankets before I would get into bed again, still keeping all my attention on the fact that there could be bugs anywhere and everywhere.
Kp laughed at me for crying and Ben called me paranoid. They just didn’t understand how violated I felt.
I called the home owner up this morning and he ignored me. He said he needed to see one before he could do anything about it. What am I supposed to do? Leave out little snacky-poos and see if they come for tea? Unlikely.
I can’t wait to move.
This morning at work, I was washing my hands and while wiping my hands on the towel, noticed a black thing. I jumped back and tried to tell myself it was a piece of string. But no, it was big, black fucker. The things are stalking me now.
If I could live in a plastic bubble, I just might.
*He’s been known to be wrong before when it comes to bug identification.
