About a month ago I woke up with bites on my hands, arms, and legs.
Bites from a bug,
a bed bug.
We haven't been able to find them.
We've exterminated, but we don't know how they came.
I have recently spent some time at the Union Square Station,
apparently that might be the culprit.
It's quite an ordeal to have bed bugs.
All your clothing goes into bags, you lose a lot of sleep, spend a lot of money, have to move your cats to your friends place, juggle work and dropping everything you own at the laundrymat, you sleep on friends couches because the stench of the spray is awful, and when you come home you have to sleep on the floor using a trash bag as a pillow.
Yes, you go through a lot of hardship, but you (if you're me) keep telling yourself - I can do this. This will all be over soon. I'm gonna be fine, I just have to get through this.
But when it's all over and your life is finally starting to come back- You're not buying the only dress you sorta like and throwing it on in the bathroom because that's the only place you feel safe. No, you've got your clothing arranged by color and type and even bought a nice set of plastic drawers for your underwear because you went two weeks only able to find the most uncomfortable pairs and you never want to do that again. -The last thing you want is to wake up with bites.
So, on Wednesday morning, when I woke up with three bites on my arm -
I lost it.
I fell to my knees and cried. I screamed. I paced the railroad apartment not knowing what to do. Where to go, no where was safe. I cried some more. I screamed.
I got dressed and went to work.
My co-workers are actually quite familiar with my struggle, so it was really the best place for me to go. My pal Caryn Solly is a bit of a bed bug expert. Urban has also suffered the wrath of the tiny suckers. Both of them listened and sympathized with my breakdown.
"It's inevitable. Bed bugs will make you crazy," Urban offered.
Caryn held me as I sat in an office and just sobbed.
We all worked together with the exterminator to come up with a solution. I'd change my sheets, get another new bed cover, and wait.
Now, I know a lot of people will say, "Throw out your mattress!"
Yeah, um no.
They have never been spotted on the mattress. To throw out that mattress would be just fiscally ridiculous. Also, the covers should help.
Anyway, after this wonderful break down I went on auto pilot. I used the reserve brains. This was apparent to anyone who was at the New York Comedy Club on Thursday, where I bombed on stage. I was basically me from 5 years ago on stage. Uncertain of time and myself. It wasn't cause I was on stage or supposed to be funny or nerves. It was because I'm in the shit people.
I'm coming out of it, but once your in the shit fog, all you've got are the reserves. You've got basics. Sure, you know how to get to work, hold superficial conversations, you can even manage to squeak out some decent emails. But come on, you're not really there, you're thinking "Ugggggh I don't even have bed to look forward to."
Hopefully I'll be back to the real Sue Funke soon, I'll talk to people and really be thinking about the conversation, and actually focus on work and stand up ....and I'll also hopefully be back to blogging on The Sue Funke soon as well.
But for now, I'm just trying to emerge from this, forgive the inevitable pun, funk.