Camping Out In My Own Apartment
Ever gone camping in your own house? That’s what my life has been like for the past several months. With air conditioning anyway.
Allyson and I have been sleeping on an inflatable bed since we first discovered the bedbugs back in June. It just seems prudent to make sure that the bedbugs are in fact completely obliterated before investing in another mattress and box springs that would only become infested if there were any of the wee beasties still alive. The air bed works remarkably well honestly. With the electric pump that we bought, it’s nearly painless to give the thing more air at night. With enough air, it’s almost completely like a mattress. You can even successfully have sex on it. The only real peril of the inflatable bed is its unfortunate propensity to pop when paired with a cat.
Tux has only popped our bed intentionally one time. All the other times have been during one of his feline exercise running fits that happen about once per day. If his route takes him through the bedroom, then he will surely pop the bed with his claws as he runs through. I don’t really mind the bed getting replaced on a fairly regular basis though because it also serves as an added check to ensure the bedbugs don’t find someway to nest on the pseudo mattress.
Last night, however, Tux had nothing to do with the bed popping. The bed ruptured along a seam in such a way that it would completely deflate in less than sixty seconds. As such, since Target was closed at such an hour, Allyson and I had to sleep on the floor last night. To be honest, it wasn’t too bad. I love sleeping on the floor personally and have been known to do so when Allyson won’t settle down and be still on the bed. Nonetheless, Allyson and I slept on the floor last night.
So, you see, this is a large part of why I just can’t bring myself to complain about the hurricane(s). I just can’t find a reason. Even if I lose power for a week, that’s nothing compared to what I’ve already managed to go through over the past several months. In turn, what I’ve lived through over the past several months is nothing to complain about when compared to watching your thumb decay while still on your body or managing clinical depression without drugs. In the end, my life is way better than I ever thought it would be—even with bedbugs, hurricanes, and Biblical plagues. Life is pretty good when you stop to look at it without getting distracted by self-pity.