I found a bedbug in the frontroom on one of the dogs' beds. That means that they have somehow survived about four fumigations, a hearty spray of RIP and migrated back into the frontroom from the dining room.
I'm just so low right now. I feel trapped here because we can't really move as we'd risk taking the problem with us and then it would be our financial concern to sort it. Plus, the hassle and cost of moving midway through Gareth's Masters is hardly fair. It's makes decisions regarding our future difficult too; I'm considering going into accountancy, but with all the problems with the house I barely have the motivation to even do basic internet research to find out if it's something I'm interested in (or have the capabilities to do).
I know I shouldn't take life so personally - the bedbugs were just bad luck and not a personal slight on me as an individual, but sometimes you just want to scream for a break!
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Oh, Lainey, I'm sorry you're having such a rotten time. I'm not surprised you're so down with what you've had to put up with.
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