Saturday, August 23, 2008

I'm a mosquito buffet

Last night I officially transformed from a mosquito snack bar to a full on, all options included, reduced price mosquito buffet. All of my defenses- all 5 of them- proved totally ineffective against some kind of terrifyingly resilient mosquito invader. These mosquitos somehow entered my home- despite that I only opened the door once and very quickly after nightfall and have mosquito netting over all of my wall-unit air-conditioners (defense #1). These nasty bugs didn't seem to mind that I have "the good knight" magic poison mushroom plug-ins that are suppose to create a nice mosquito-free zone. (defense #2) I had started my night pleasantly enough, falling into my bed and ignoring the mosquito netting (which I despise and try to avoid using since it prevents good airflow and is a pain to get in and out of.) Usually defense #1 and #2 are ample. But nasty burning itchy raised and irritated bumps on my face and neck jolted me out of my slumber. I had no choice but to wake up, turn on the light and start whapping all my bedding and surrounding areas/ air with my electrified racket which, when it comes into contact with a mosquito, provides a devilishly satisfyingly electrocution complete with sparks and the smell of roasting mosquito. (defense #3). After, verifying that my bed was mosquito free, I let down the mosquito netting (defense #4) and sprayed more toxic chemicals around the room (defense #5) and crawled back into bed. Unfortunately, a mosquito - or more- survived- triumphing against all efforts to exterminate it and provide myself with a restful night. It attacked repeatedly, causing puffy irritated bumps to raise out of my body in itchy protest to the involuntary blood donation. And when the dreaded mosquito pushed its needle nose straight into a vein or artery, the chemicals it put inside my body flowed along the cannel caused a raised dot and line- an exclamation mark of pain; a temporary tattoo of protest. I'd wake up in the night with evidence from recent attacks on my fingers, abdomen and back. I'd feel a light tickle on my check and give myself a sneaky but hardy smack in hopes of preventing further extraction of my blood and then start waving my electrified racket like a mad-women, only searching for a little reprieve from the mosquito war, the never-ending battles between woman and bug.

And now I plot further defense strategies for inevitable future attacks from an innumerable army- I could wear mosquito repellant to bed (defense #6). Ah ha! the beauty of calm daytime planning verses the crazed midnight defense conducted while under constant attack from a seemingly invisible army of invaders and blood thieves.

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