A few days ago, I found myself standing naked in a friend's back yard, having just thrown away most of my personal possessions, wondering where my life went wrong.
How, you may ask, did I arrive at such an amusing, pathetic state? The answer comes in one word that's sure to send a shiver down many spines: Bedbugs.
On a recent trip to San Francisco, I stayed -- as I often do -- in an Airbnb rental. Unfortunately, this particular room happened to be infested with tiny little vampiric bugs that would emerge every night to feed upon my blood. I don't want to blame the poor Airbnb host -- I might have brought the bugs myself, from a hotel I stayed at for one night. Bedbugs, being difficult to detect, are also difficult to trace. But whatever the source, the result was disaster.