Sunday, February 26, 2017

never met a bedbug I liked

In fact, I've never met a bedbug at all (I think). So why am I so bedbug obsessed? If you have to ask then 

a. you've not ventured anywhere beyond the safe confines of your home since WW1, or
b. travel with your own frequently washed and steamed airplane blanket, or
c. have no television or connectivity to the outside world, or
d. gotten stuck in a hospital, or
e. are just deluding yourself that those mini puncture marks are tattoos

Lucky you! 

Despite their endearing and friendly demeanour (see pic above) these bloodsuckers are anything but. I'm told that with my family history and some unexplained incidents, I'm probably anemic and should avoid the company of vampires and bedbugs so I'm always on the lookout. 

In fact, I bought an apt in a frequently-travelled city so that I could minimise the chance of coming face-to-face or toe-to-toe with one of these 6-legged, antennaed, hairy uninvited intruders. Try as I might to be nicer as I age, I just can't find any useful purpose, spiritual or otherwise, for a bedbug. And I'm doubtful that hours of meditation will change my mind. So I stay in my lane and hold them accountable to do the same. An honour code that has worked so far. I think.

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