Not The Favorite

On Saturday, I found a flea on my hand in the car on the way to the grocery store. I have been paranoid about bugs ever since.

So, all day I had this horrible feeling that bugs were crawling all over my chest. I kept having to look down my shirt to reassure myself that their weren't any bugs in there. And then it happened... I actually found a bug on my boob. I thought it was lint. Nope, it was a gross little black and white bug. Nothing helps paranoia like finding the very thing you paranoid about right in your shirt. From then on, I was scratching and I couldn't wait to get home and strip off that shirt.

Later that night...

As soon as Lauren went to bed at 8, the tidying started and didn't stop until 10:30. And I still feel restless. I just pace the apartment looking for stuff that's out of place and I can't go to bed until 11 when Hells Kitchen is over. It's funny, I look around and see that I need to clean stuff and can't bring myself to do it. But I have to put everything back in it's place, even though "it's place" might be covered in dust. The only things I have to clean are dishes and laundry, or I get antsy.

I have an odd sense of priority when it comes to keeping my home clean. Meh, at least I know where stuff is...

Labels: Bugs