Night five has come and gone, and no new bites. Could it be that the end of the bug age has come in my apartment?
Now wouldn't that be sweet.
My clothes are still packed away in plastic bags, which is uber annoying when one is attempting to keep a shirt wrinkle free for work. The other super annoying thing is that all my clothes are actually at my brother's place, because I'm scared that a certain cat will pee all over them (trust me, he would manage to get inside the bags).
For now, though, I will just be happy with the fact that the bugs may have finally kicked the bucket and given in to their demise. Life here is moribund for them, so they really should just quit, or travel next door to the miserable people over there. Whichever works best.
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