The Great Flea Hunt of 2002

Last week I kind of, uh, got fleas.
Well, my bed became infested with fleas. I don't think I actually had anything to do with it, other than providing them with a food source. According to wikipedia the eggs can chill in bedding for like a year before they hatch, so maybe that was the reason. I really don't know.
But it did result in the adventure that was The Great Flea Hunt of 2002. Yes, 2002. Ethiopia has its own calendar, with 13 months. It’s 2002 in Ethiopia. But it’s fiscal year 2003. I don’t even want to talk about it.
The Great Flea Hunt of 2002 consisted of stripping all my bedding, dragging it into the hallway, screaming and running away when K shook it out, getting a wicked foot cramp from running, sitting on the floor trying to un-dislocate my toe while K dissolved into a fit of laughter, borrowing K's headlamp to do a thorough inspection of the bedding, putting it back on my bed, smothering my legs in DEET, and looking down at my leg while brushing my teeth the next morning to see that it all had no effect because a couple of the damn things were still contentedly attached to me.
The Great Flea Hunt of 2002, Part 2 ensued the following night. By the third day, I finally got smart and just asked them to change my sheets. Success.

In other news, I told a couple of obnoxious, persistent Rastas in the Piassa that my name was Zelda. I really want to try to use Zenon one of these days, but I don't know if I can keep a straight face.