Last night I went to see a play at a theatre downtown. It was the first time since this started that I’ve been in a large crowd, apart from the grocery store, etc.
I noticed immediately that I was anxious about a lot of things at one time: my own bug problem, the ease with which any bug who happened to hitchhike on any of these people could attach itself to another in such circumstances, the way I felt isolated–I thought I bet no one here has bedbugs… how nice it must be to live normally and to not have to think about them at all. I felt like I had a big neon sign on me that said “INFESTED” and I was self-conscious about taking my coat off, even though I knew it was heat-treated and ziploc-quarantined, so there was nothing on it.
When the lights came up and showed the set of the main couple’s apartment, I found myself thinking how nice and bug-free it looked, but also thinking about the many places bugs could hide in their place, and how difficult any treatment but thermal would be in a space like that, with all the shelves and decorations and pieces of furniture–spray would never find where they were hiding…
I was relieved to go home afterward–relieved to go back to my apartment, bugs and all, because at least there I didn’t need to worry about things. I know what I have, I know what I need to do, and it’s comfortable in a fucked-up way.