I HEARD A FLY CRY WHEN I DIED

Gentle Readers,

I don't know how anyone can have as many mosquito bites during November as I have. It's not as if I live in the jungle. Where are these biting bastards coming from?

I see them floating lazily around my house, waiting to feed on my deliciousness when the mood strikes, they whine in my ear when I go to bed, and ZAP, I wake up every morning with more bites -- deliver me Jesus!

I suppose these mosquitoes are the children and grandchildren (I don't know much about the life cycle of the mosquito and I'm in no mood to google it) of the mosquitoes that got in the house and lived off me over the summer. They laid their eggs or do whatever it is that mosquitoes do and remained in the comfort of my cozy house and so it doesn't matter to them that it's turned cold outside. And they certainly don't care that I don't leave uncovered food sitting around because I am the uncovered food that's sitting around. They love me. They simply love me. And I can't use repellent. It's repellent to my delicate skin.

Perhaps a coating of plastic wrap at bedtime would protect me. Must remember to leave nose and mouth free.

Infinities of love to everyone except mosquitoes,

Lola