Okay, so we've lived here in Colorado for one and a half weeks and within the first 24 hours of being here . . . we had moved TWICE! And we're thinking about moving again.
Let me explain (and get ready for some grimacing). The first apartment smelled really bad of cigarette smoke from the carpet and walls. It wasn't until we had all boxes in the apartment from the moving van and some things unpacked onto shelves that we both had headaches and felt sick! (I later found out our neighbors would chain smoke all day and we had a connecting vent. Ugh.) We finally went to management and asked if they had another apartment available - we were willing to move all our stuff all over again, it was that bad. So, we moved to a different apartment room . . . 4 floors up. WHEW! Talk about a lot of work - Taking doors off hinges just to get the couch in and out (Twice); lugging the stupid couch up the 3 flights of stairs b/c it wouldn't fit into the elevator; unpacking, repacking, backpacking - Are there any unemployed Sherpas around here?
Well. Now that we're mostly settled and unpacked in our 2nd apartment, we can breathe much easier with only the occasional faint smell of second-hand smoke (as it turns out this complex is full of smokers. lovely. Really nice people though.)
BUT WAIT! The fun ain't over yet my friends!
3 days ago, a new challenge surfaced. I woke up that morning with about 10 little red bumps on my stomach and feet. Hm. That's weird. I checked Mike out - nothing. Throughout the morning he would tell me it was something I ate or touched that I'm allergic to. "But I'm not allergic to anything!" I proclaimed. (Now, you may not know this about me, but I've actually prided myself on the fact that whenever I went to the doctors I could unabashedly skip all the items of things people are allergic to and proudly check off the box that said "None". So please.)
My husband's reply: Well, you're getting old now and you're developing allergies.
Excuse me? Not, you're: 'older' or 'aging gracefully ' or 'gosh I love your hips and that new sparkle (grey) in your hair'. Old. Well, sweet husband, why don't you just drop me off at the nursing home just down the street and make sure to stop by for a visit once a week.
Anyway, I'm not allergic - I refuse to be.
The next day I woke up with - More Spots! Arms, stomach, legs, back, and feet at five times the amount. And now they're getting itchy! But still, my sweet husband insisted I was allergic to something . . . until he woke up with spots this morning. Ha! So what the heck with all the red dots? It got us thinking . . . was it the new detergent I used? Have we been eating something bad? (and my own personal runaway thought train . . . Am I really getting *gulp* OLD??). Slowly a thought came to us. We both remembered finding and killing little bugs that we found around in the bedroom and livingroom every once in awhile, but never though much about it - until today. We looked online, and whadduya know - they're famous! They're called bedbugs. Yup, we have bedbugs! Have you ever known anyone with bedbugs? Now you can say you do! I'd heard of them, but never seen them. And now I've decided I never wanted to.
So! We traded a smokey apartment for one that has blood-sucking, crawly, beady-eyed little vampires. Please click here and enjoy.
Good night. Sleep tight. Don't let the . . .
