Waiting on a Military Miracle

Let me prelude this with saying that I fucking HATE bugs. I can't stand anything that crawls, flies, and squirms and is smaller (or even bigger than) a quarter. They are disgusting, gross, nasty little creatures. 

So for whatever reason, the fourteenth became my "I'm gonna go psycho and clean my entire house like a crazy person until it sparkles" day. Little did I know what lay in store during my day of vacuuming, polishing, scrubbing, and dusting.

It all started innocently enough. I cleaned my kitchen to perfection. The tub and sink in the bathroom were soaking in a bleach/cleaner mixture to sparkle like a bedazzled egg, and the beds were stripped with the sheets washing... it was going great.

 I have a mini shag rug in front of my door. It's there to be pretty, to catch dirt when I come in.... and apparently to house fly larva. I shake out my rugs and then vacuum up the residue, but this particular time the "residue" that was shaken out was somewhere around 20+ larva all over my freaking living room. I freaked the hell out. I was a crying, paranoid mess.

My house isn't dirty, and these damn things made me feel like it was. I decided to go more psycho clean than before and moved furniture and got every one of those damn things up and out of my house. Fucking disgusting.