So I found out recently, (recently meaning last night when I woke up and immediately found 3 of them full of blood and then what I thought to be specks of dirt on my bed were babies) that I have a bed bug infestation. Being the brave solider I am, I jumped out of bed and screamed as I killed them and again whenever I found another. Then I inspected a blanket and pillow no less than 4 times before sleeping on my couch.
Well it took another 2 hours to fall asleep as I kept checking for surprise bugs and when I fell asleep can you guess what I dreamed about? That's right. It started off like a normal bug-related nightmare. I woke up to go to work and checked my room to find a mountain of shed bug skins and bedbugs crawling everywhere. Totally realistic expectation after finding 3 of them. Anyway, in the middle of this mountain of bug skin there's a very detailed compilation of bug-skin statues. These were good, I mean HR Gieger would've been impressed by these alienesque figures. So like any good Christian would, I sprayed the figures so they'd hold and went to try to sell them to a gallery in town.
The piece sold right away, but in the middle of the sale, the art dealer and I were interrupted by a man who happened to be none other than Dean Winchester from Supernatural. He asked to see the bugskin art and then proceeded to tell me that the bugs weren't making art at all. Instead, they were demonic bedbugs sent from hell to reak havoc. What they had left behind was actually a foretelling of Armageddon that would start with the monsters they constructed on my bed. Dean suggested we head immediately back to my house to inspect for more bugs, and take them for observance in case they left more clues. Once we got back to my house, though, the bugs and their skins were totally gone. We looked for clues about where they might have gone, and it was the middle of the search that I woke up.
So there you go. A weird recap of my bedbug dream that's totally gross and makes no sense. Not sure why I needed to post that, but enjoy.
