facing reality.

Last night, Kirby came bolting out of the bathroom, grabbed the scotch tape from beside me, and bolted back to the bathroom. A moment later she returned with a taut piece of tape stretched between her fingers, and a little round bug whose back was caught by adhesive was kicking wildly as it tried to free itself.

"You said to save it, right?" she asked.

"Yes," I sighed. "Shit. Another one?"

Together we stuck it on the paper where I taped the first bug. I pulled out the sharpie and marked the date: 11 Feb 2009.

It was then I knew. My hopes of this being a one-off one-bug problem were crushed. We had two now, two are a pair. Two can breed. I knew I couldn't put it off any longer. In the morning I would call the super, or building management, the cavalry -- whoever I needed to call.

So this morning I didn't rush off to work. I took a shower, and called the super around 8:30. I had rehearsed the message I would leave on his cell phone, a curt "Hi Billy, it's Stephanie in 6A. I have a problem and I need you to call me back. Thanks." I was afraid if I left details in the voicemail, he'd never return my call, pretending he never knew I had the problem.

But to his credit, he answered the phone. So I revised my rehearsed lines. "Hi Billy, it's Stephanie in 6A. I believe I have a bedbug problem."

"Aww. [Sigh.] Okay..."

"We found a second one last night, crawling on the wall. I saved it. I verified against photos online that it's a bedbug. I have bites all over my arms and legs."

Billy then told me what we were going to do. He has some sort of spray or pesticide, provided to him by management, for treating bedbugs. While I have my doubts that this will work, based on things I've read online, I guess I can't say no. It's worth a try. So Billy is going to come tomorrow morning when I'm ready to leave for work around 8:00, spray/bomb my bedroom, and then clear out. He says we need to keep the apartment empty for 2-3 hours after he treats.

I asked him what I need to do to prepare for this treatment. He gave me the expected list: strip off the bed linens, take all the clothes out of all the drawers and the closets, put everything in sealed plastic bags, etc. I could feel the life draining out of me as I imagined the money and time to be spent in this exercise, but I know it has to be done. I will call Billy later to confirm.

So then I called in to work, saying I needed the morning if not the whole day to prepare for urgent "maintenance" on my apartment. I'm so embarrassed to admit this problem, even though I know it's not my fault. I know it's not about cleanliness or hygiene. But still, there's a stigma attached.

Then I got ready to head out to Target. I need to buy big Ziploc or Space Bags -- clear ones -- to put all my clothes and linens (and drapes and towels) in after I wash them. I called into a place on 14th street (Manhattan) who carries the Allerzip mattress covers, and they're open til 8pm. As I was doing all this research online, and about to head out the door -- someone knocked on it.

"Exterminator."

I have never, ever been so thrilled to have this man at my door.