I am obsessed with bed bugs.

No, I don’t mean this in a scientific-study sense, like that I find them and place them under a microscope and ogle them and comprehend their daily routines, and I don’t mean this in a masochistic sense, like that I’m trying to find a few to put in my room because I like how bite marks look and feel on the body.

But my latent ability to ignite absurd fears partnered with my always-reliable best friend Google has ensured me that they could be anywhere. ‘Sleep tight’ is no longer an option once the lights go out ‘ it’s me, a flashlight and my 20/20 vision being strained as I peer into the cracks of my mattress obsessively.

Never mind the fact that I had my bedroom inspected. Never mind the fact that I had no reason to get it inspected other than the fact that there were some cases in Binghamton. Hearing about the bed bugs chilling in Lincoln Center didn’t help my attempt to relax about the prospect of bed bugs. Having the sheer knowledge that bed bugs like theaters made me feel like a prime candidate for catching that pest and giving it a free ride to my bedroom.

And never mind the fact that I spent years and years at sleep-away camp where I would go home covered in bites from all sorts of creatures, and would just shrug my shoulders and give myself a full body Benadryl cream massage.

However, with the recent reports of bed bug outbreaks, in comparison to the other fears I have written about recently, one can actually see in real time if your fears are legitimate. You can shine a flashlight up to your mattress at night, and if the bugs were to come out to have an early Thanksgiving feast you can see them on your body. Although the treatment process would be grim and time consuming, at least it would be (mostly) in control. So in my case, I can spot a single bug, but I can’t spot the end of next semester.

And just because time is spent distracting myself by obsessing over creepy-crawlies chilling in between my sheets, doesn’t mean that the real-life worries are going away. They’re just building and boiling up inside, ready for the inevitable explosion. I can blame the bags under my eyes on the nonexistent bugs, but is that really why I’m not sleeping?

The stresses of senior year in college ‘ or any year, for that matter ‘ are insurmountable: the pressures to find a job, make money, do your best, succeed, somehow still have fun and walk out feeling like you did the right thing. Add your own life stresses that engulf you on a day-to-day basis, throw in a pest that bites you in the night and toss in good ol’ Google and suddenly, not only is the future the great enemy, but the seams of your mattress and the cracks in the walls possess the greater enemies, in infinite quantities, awaiting to dine on you.

But until you feel the bite, there is no need to look under the sheets. Much like the future, there is no need to stress about what can’t be seen or dealt with until it arrives. If the real monster under the bed is the underlying anxiety, no pesticide can cure that. All that’s needed is a good night’s sleep to be able to focus on the bigger picture, and judging by my previous paragraph, a better meal than tuna salad.