So here in the Midwest, we’ve had a lovely ol’ heat wave rolling through. 85 degrees over the last couple days, when previously the highs were in the mid-50s. I spent most of the last couple afternoons outside, thinking that it was nothing worse than being a bit too hot out…
…And then the mosquitoes woke up. But I thought, hey, I’m wearing a long-sleeved, full-length dress, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?
Apparently the little fuckers have been perfecting their guerrilla stealth tactics. Last night, when I looked in the mirror, I wanted to throw up a little.
I didn’t actually count (knowing the actual number wouldn’t make me feel better), but there were at least fifteen big red mounds of mosquito bite glistening on my pasty white back. After the initial jolt of panic, I fearfully checked the rest of me. There were seven more bites on my legs. And three on my shoulders. And to top it off, some of them look like they’re fragmenting into little bursts of red fireworks.
Seriously, this is disgusting. I’ve been liberally using an anti-itch cream (thankfully most of them don’t itch much), but I don’t think that’ll help them shrink any faster. I guess I’m stuck looking like an acne-ridden teen again for a while.