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More about the Mites

So--again, to my horror, to refresh your memory--yours truly began searching every dark, smooth surface in her apartment, only to find THAT EVERY SINGLE ONE WAS COVERED WITH SQUIRMIES. "EW" does not EVEN BEGIN to describe how grossed out I am/was by the experience. The entire bedroom is CRAWLING with mites and half the living/dining room is, too. (There was an awful lot of swearing that went on last night. Mostly I kept uttering a moanful, "Oh, Holy Fuck," over and over again.)

So I'm exhausted from working nearly 12 hours, I have a busy and difficult day ahead of me, and I can't get into bed because it's crawling with gross wrigglies. Holy fucking 'ew.' I discovered, as I rushed around my apartment in shock, that they don't appear to like cloth--although some of them (I kid you not) had built a little crystal palace on a polyester pillow I have. The pillow is sorta slick, so I guess they didn't realize it's a pillow and not a shelf or desk or something. They had made a tiny, phallic, crystalline tower no more than two millimeters tall, and it was surrounded by a moving mass of the little mites. They were all at the base of it, wriggling around (procreating, I would assume). So I flicked them all to kingdom come with one hand and kept my hair away from everything in that nasty room with the other.

I didn't even know that mites made bacchanalian crystal temples in their spare time.

Oh, Holy Fuck that room is nasty. I attribute my gross discovery to the previous tenant, Rob Pope (yes, the Chicken McNugget's retarded son). He left food in all the dishes, a cockroach in the kitchen sink, crusty bedsheets, moldy pillows, the list goes on. (He also left me two broken VCRs and a broken microwave that wouldn't heat anything. It would just sit there and buzz for a while.) I just thought the room was dusty and although I had dusted it a few times, I haven't had TIME to really do a thorough cleaning or to figure out what day to throw out his old shit. (Certain trash has to be thrown away on certain days in Japan.) Well, fuck that. Those dirty sheets and shit are going out TONIGHT.

So I crawled halfway down the bed and slept on the far end, cramped, away from the mite-ridden headboard. I kept waking up every hour, afraid that my hair was full of the nasty things (although they apparently aren't too fond of my hair, since I haven't had a problem with itchy skin, an itchy scalp, anything that would indicate that they had been bothering me). I also wore my dark green pj's so that I would be able to tell if any had crawled on me. (They're white and almost impossible to see on a light surface. ALMOST impossible.)

So I'm going to go home early today so I can CLEAN CLEAN CLEAN OH HOLY LORD I NEED TO GUT THAT PLACE AND BURN IT TO THE GROUND.

Good night, sleep tight, DON'T LET THE BEDBUGS BITE. ::grimace::

Why does stuff like this always happen to me?!

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