Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite (or move in)

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of movement and looked over towards my left. There he was. Crawling up the wall. Mere inches from where I sat. 

We have a bug problem in our office. Every couple of days you'll see a spider or beetle or ant or earwig or other random creepy, crawly things traversing about.

It totally gives me the heebie-jeebies.

Mostly because it reminds me of:

Once, in the middle of the night, I got up to go pee, and you know how you're not really awake and your eyes are half closed but you still know where you're going because you've walked this same path a million times so you could totally get to the toilet it in the dark? Well, it was like that.

Half asleep, shuffling to the bowl, I sat down and did my business.

And then I wiped.

Just like a thousand other times.

I grabbed the toilet paper from the roll beside me, balled it up and wiped.

Except something most definitely did not feel right.

I didn't know what it was exactly, but I was pretty certain it required a blood curdling scream while jumping up, spinning around and Holy, Mary, Mother of Jesus! There, frantically swimming around in the water, was an earwig that had just milliseconds earlier touched places that are considered most private on a woman's body.

These are my options:

(1) The earwig was sleeping peacefully amongst the layers of toilet paper and I accidently scooped him up and introduced him to my vaginal entry. He was merely a victim.

(2) The earwig was prancing around the toilet bowl and jumped over to view the activity. He was a nosy pervert.

(3) The earwig purposely and intentionally made it's way across my bedroom floor, crawled up the side of my bed, under my covers, and up into the leg of the shorts I was wearing and had begun the process of moving in and getting comfy when this strange activity unconsciously registered into my sleeping brain, thus causing me to want to empty the contents of my body - including bug and urine, ultimately saving me from having an earwig roost amongst my innards which would have resulted in several months of doctors appointments and debilitating health where I just don't feel right but they can't find anything wrong and they just keep saying it's all in my head until finally some doctor from Canada hears my story, realizes I have an internal earwig infestation, saves my life and I end up being featured on a special medical mystery edition of Nightline.

Suffice it to say, I am that girl who looks on, around and under the toilet seat as well as shakes out all toilet paper before wading it up for use. Seriously, I'm like one step away from sleeping in tights.