On the edge
The past several weeks I have been suffering from sleep deprivation at torturous levels; sometimes yielding only an hour cumulative per night. The cause is a severe infestation of mosquitos in my apartment. Every day, Helen and I kill approximately 50-60 mosquitos each. They are everywhere. Big, brown, and ferocious. There are no spots on either of our bodies that are immune to attack. Although I of course hate mosquito bites of all kinds, I especially loathe the ones on my knuckles, between my toes, on the balls of my feet, the lobes of my ears, and on my forehead, eyebrows, and fingers. Even donning head gear (hats, scarves, turtlenecks, face masks, etc.), long sleeve shirts, pants, and socks to cover every piece of skin does not work. We sit on the bed, armed with our favorite swatters, terrorized and unable to sleep. I have it lucky, because when mosquitos bite me, all that happens is I get itchy. Helen, however, is more allergic than I, and her bites become quite swollen.
So if recently I’ve seemed edgy to you, that’s why. I really could use a good night’s sleep, maybe in a hotel or something.