This is turning into the week of my discontent.

First, I would like to say parchment paper has saved my relationship with banana bread. Which makes me very happy, as I love it so.

Unfortunately, the rest of the week has not been so good. First, the printer wouldn't work. Fifty-five minutes on online chat with Fayiz later, and it was determined that my printer, my month old-used 4 times printer, needs a new printerhead. God bless them at Kodak, the part is already in the mail. We got a snow storm this week, which I was complaining about, but I am currently o happy to have sub-zero temperatures. If anything, I wish it was colder. But I'll get to that. Last night, I made juice, and I thought I heard a crack, but didn't think anything of it until I opened the fridge and there was juice. Everywhere. Put the pitcher on the counter, cleaned up the fridge, picked up the pitcher: juice all over the counter. What the f-ing fudge?? The bottom of the pitcher had cracked when I put the frozen juice in it.

Okay.

This morning, as Adam was clearing snow, the Bobcat died, and he had to kick out the windshield to get out, because no one was around to hear him screaming at 7am.

Well then.

This week there have been several other annoyances, but in my current mental state, brought on from what we found yesterday, I can't remember them. Let me give you some back story. I gave Adam a hoodie for Christmas; he was very excited about it, and wore it right away. Not really a big deal, I don't generally wash new clothes. So we exchanged gifts, and I went home for Christmas, and around boxing day he was telling me that he was breaking out. We assumed it was something on the sweater, so he washed it, but he kept breaking out. So he went for an allergy test, he's been writing down everything he's eating, taking benedryl, and on and on, trying to figure out what it was. I got back at end of December, and since I wasn't having any sort of reaction, we assumed there was nothing in the apartment causing it, and we were chalking it up to stress.

Then I woke up with two bumps on my arm. Then one on my shoulder. Then I tore the bed apart. And found NOTHING. Overturned the box spring, and there....

clinging on the cloth....

was....

a wall louse. A BEDBUG. IN MY SLEEPING AREA.

*Insert complete Chris Crocker melt-down here*

I didn't sleep last night; I woke up about 85 times, thinking there were all sorts of creepy things all over me (and we didn't even sleep here). Everything that was in our bedroom has been bagged and is out on the deck (this is why I'm glad it's so cold lately. Bring on a sub-Arctic windchill. Please). The bed is out there, and will be promptly destroyed. I wouldn't lay back on that mattress for a million dollars. Srsly. I'm writing this while I take a break from steam cleaning the shit out of this flat (we're so very lucky that Adam's parents own a janitorial supply company, and we had access to an industrial vapor machine). The laundry will be transfered from the deck to the basement, where it will be hot-washed, and dried, sealed in clean bags, and put back outside. I'm not taking anything back in until the Orkin man is here and we know what exactly is happening. He'll be here at 6 with his bug-sniffing hound, and we'll go from there. We only saw two bugs, (grossgrossgross) an adult and a baby, and where there were no spots on the mattress or box spring, I'm really really hoping it's a minor infestation. I hate the word infestation. I hate all of this so so much. I know we're not dirty; I know this can happen to anyone, but that still doesn't make me any less inclined to drink some Lysol and burn the house down. The tenant upstairs says they haven't had any bites, and they haven't noticed anything. Thankfully, this building is old, and very solidly built, and it wouldn't be easy for anything to move from one place to the other.
And yes, this means that all my material, everything in my craft room, will have to be washed and dried.

*deep breath*

I'm sorry for the gross, disturbing, awful, nasty, crawly goddamn update. I don't even have anything clever to add; no advice on how to keep these awful bloodsuckers out of your house. Just please be extra-vigilant about the things you take into your home, because this is by far, the most stressful situation I have ever been in.

Now please excuse me, I'm going to wash everything I own, and dig my bed frame out of the snow.

Edit: Thanks for the love, ladies. It does make me feel a little less vile. The Orkin Man and his bug sniffing dog have put my mind at ease; we have a very small problem that can be taken care of on Monday. Disgustingly enough, they are in the bed, but I never will be again, so it's all going to be oooookkaaaay.