I am normally a lover of living things, especially animals. I feel badly for the endangered species across the planet. I save spiders and am inwardly triumphant on behalf of the mice who seem to have outsmarted my landlord's attempt to rid my apartment of them.
There is one animal I cannot abide: the mosquito.
I know, they're part of nature, integral part of the food chain, blah blah blah.
The reason I loathe mosquitoes is that they love me so.
If there is a mosquito within a ten mile radius of me, I am convinced it will find me and have a breakfast, lunch and dinner of blonde blood.
Case in point: I have bites from the last 48 hours in the following places.
Left middle finger
Right arm near shoulder
Right rotator cuff.
Count 'em, folks. Eight mosquito bites. EIGHT.
I managed to get bitten in March (are any bugs even alive in Boston in March?)
I managed to get bitten while on anti-malarial pills in India (which are supposed to make you undetectable to these cheeky buggers.)
I get bitten in Boston. In an URBAN AREA. Yes, I expect bug bites in Newburyport or Beverly, where B's and my parents live respectively. I expect it in Old Lyme, CT (also the original home of Lyme Disease.) But Boston is a different story. I should be safe. I should not wake up in the middle of the night to ridiculously itchy pinkies and middle fingers and others.
Does anyone have any suggestions? (Other than bathing in DDT, which I hear isn't the best thing for my health.) Perhaps I should stop sweating. Or stop eating any sort of sugars. Or stop being out of doors at all, ever (not bloody likely).