On the train yesterday, Mizza informed me that the city is apparently infested with bedbugs once again. This happens from time to time, I guess. I’ve gotten used to “water bugs” in my tub when I get home from a long break, but I really cannot handle this.
“If you get them,” Mizza said. “I recommend the following: Leave your apartment with the clothes on your back, which you will promptly have deloused, and perhaps burned. Abandon your lease and all your belongings and start over in a new city. Also: You’ve scratched your nose three times while we’ve been talking, and if there’s something you’d like to tell me, you can do it from across the aisle.”
I am dead serious, folks. If the bedbugs find me, there won’t be enough SSRIs on the planet to stop the screaming.