Mosquitoes; arrrgh
I now hate mosquitoes as much as I have lately hated ants.
Proof that demons exist: that tiny whining buzz of a mosquito approaching your ear at 3 a.m. Because then what do you do? You can't just bat at it and go back to sleep--it's going to stick around if you don't kill it! It's going to suck your blood and make you itch and maybe, just maybe, give you West Nile Virus! But turning on the light at 3 a.m. to find the teensy demon is more than a little disruptive to everyone in the room as well. And if you do turn on a light, good luck finding the thing. It is, after all, the size of a wisp of lint.
So a fully grown human ends up stalking around his or her bedroom in the dead of the night, bleary-eyed, scanning the walls and the ceiling for a tiny and undoubtedly laughing insect, who has gotten him or her out of bed. And has done so for more than one night in a row. Despite there being no standing water nor swamps around the house, and despite also an effort to keep doors shut for this very reason.
Then, whether you kill it or you don't, when you go back to bed your brain starts hallucinating the whine. It could be distant traffic, an electronic device somewhere in the house, or your own imagination, but you're *sure* you hear a mosquito. I STILL hear a mosquito, I swear.
I ended up spraying "natural" insect repellant--i.e., really strong citronella--on myself at about 1 a.m. today, the second day in a row for mosquito-related insomnia. Then came the problem that I smelled totally unlike my usual self, and pungently too, and that also made it hard to sleep. Yes, I am a hound dog, and cannot sleep if things don't "smell right."
So, I'll be over here thinking up ways to string mosquito netting from the light fixtures. Meanwhile, chalk this up as another reason to hate summer.
Proof that demons exist: that tiny whining buzz of a mosquito approaching your ear at 3 a.m. Because then what do you do? You can't just bat at it and go back to sleep--it's going to stick around if you don't kill it! It's going to suck your blood and make you itch and maybe, just maybe, give you West Nile Virus! But turning on the light at 3 a.m. to find the teensy demon is more than a little disruptive to everyone in the room as well. And if you do turn on a light, good luck finding the thing. It is, after all, the size of a wisp of lint.
So a fully grown human ends up stalking around his or her bedroom in the dead of the night, bleary-eyed, scanning the walls and the ceiling for a tiny and undoubtedly laughing insect, who has gotten him or her out of bed. And has done so for more than one night in a row. Despite there being no standing water nor swamps around the house, and despite also an effort to keep doors shut for this very reason.
Then, whether you kill it or you don't, when you go back to bed your brain starts hallucinating the whine. It could be distant traffic, an electronic device somewhere in the house, or your own imagination, but you're *sure* you hear a mosquito. I STILL hear a mosquito, I swear.
I ended up spraying "natural" insect repellant--i.e., really strong citronella--on myself at about 1 a.m. today, the second day in a row for mosquito-related insomnia. Then came the problem that I smelled totally unlike my usual self, and pungently too, and that also made it hard to sleep. Yes, I am a hound dog, and cannot sleep if things don't "smell right."
So, I'll be over here thinking up ways to string mosquito netting from the light fixtures. Meanwhile, chalk this up as another reason to hate summer.