Bed Bug Bed Whore

It's official.  Bed bugs have turned me into a bed-hopping whore.  NYC is stricken with an epidemic of bed bugs, which has basically caused me to not sleep / wake up in a panic for the better part of the last 6-8 weeks.  Long story short, I had my apartment checked and am now living in a chemical-filled palace of plastic bagged clothing and have a deathly fear of going within 4 feet of my couch.  When I'm forced to sleep there, it's rough.  But somehow in my psychosis, I've decided that while MY apartment, which has been sprayed with bug-killing chemicals, is not "safe" to sleep in, ANYONE ELSE's apartment apparently is.  I realize this is nuts, but I'd have to have a whole separate blog if we were going to discuss my potential psychological problems.


So what's a girl to do?  Obviously, tell anyone and everyone about my fear of my own bed, and wait until they extend the invitation to stay over their place.  Obviously.  I spent the first 2-3 days post-bugpocolypse hiding out at my Guy I'm Not Dating But Spend An Awful Lot of Time With's house, which was great, because I got some sleep FINALLY.  However, note the "not dating" part of that - eventually GINDBSAALOTW tired of dealing with my bug-o-phobia and sent me packing.  Eff that - who DOESN'T want to be woken up at 3 am to check the sheets?  Jeez. I spent a few nights creeping around my place which, in all honesty, is probably the LEAST bed bugged place in Brooklyn right now, and failing to sleep.  This has caused me to become a half zombie, half irrational bitch, moderately functional bed whore.  Now that I realize it's mainly just in my head, it's become the full on brilliant inroad for most dudes I hang out with because I am actually terrified to go home.  So where am I going to go?  Well, your place, obviously, which is probably dirtier, further away from my office, and completely inconvenient for me.  (Yes, I am hoping that actually writing this in blog form triggers my brain to let go of the craziness.  Right...)  And so today, as I woke up somewhere waaaaaaay up on the Upper East Side, after 4 hours of sleep, potentially still drunk from last night and sneezing my a** off because I'm wickedly allergic to cats, I realized that yes, it's true, bed bugs have made me into a bed hopping whore.  And this, my friends, is my gift to the men of NYC - I may be nuts, but apparently that works in your favor these days?!