Biting Bed Bugs
I consider it my crowning achievement of the last six years. It’s something I’ve been striving for for almost three years, but I never knew quite how to formulate it. After an afternoon of thinking about it, the sketch appears like it will go through. My roommate, his girlfriend, and their friend return from a day at Point Reyes. We have a mini-party over Ghirardelli chocolates and beer.
The party was a little premature, which I realize shortly after waking up the next morning. There’s a bug. Is there a way to squash it? Ewwww…. gwoss! I think of a few ways to get around it. I convince myself it can be resolved, and set it aside to work on other things. The day progresses, and I feel a sense of euphoria. Taxes, meetings, and spring cleaning feel light, and I get through them without a problem.
It’s almost dinner time, and my thoughts return to the bug. I realize I’ve been bitten. I rabidly try to find a solution to apply. This will be one of my last proofs as a graduate student, and I am reveling in it.