There's the rub

Today felt like summer. It probably helped that daylight saving kicked off overnight, meaning that even though it's almost 8 it's still a little light outside. It took me a while to work that out this morning. I have a phone and laptop that are programmed to set their own time, but my watch and all my other clocks hadn't changed. I actually had to get online to double check the time (thanks very much timeanddate.com, by the way. Lifesaver)

But that's all beside the point. I spent today with the windows of the flat open, basking in the glorious sunshine as I moved around, puttering (i.e. procrastinating) in my linen shirt and cut off jeans. For someone who feels that she has gone without a summer since early 2006, it was like a slice of heaven. Or it was, until a mosquito found its way into the flat. See, only two of my windows have insect screens. And, as fate would have it, they aren't the windows that stay open without props. So I take my chances, or I have until today. I shut the windows a little before sundown - prime mozzie time, in my experience - but it was too late.

And now, I have a problem. Two, actually, one on my wrist, one on my elbow. Which leads me to the question, how the hell did I not notice that there was a bloodsucker taking a nip of me on my right wrist while I was cooking dinner? It's not like my hand was still for long, either. Now I've got to keep reminding myself not to scratch, so it doesn't get infected. Because I'm allergic to mosquitoes. Of course I am. Sometimes, I'm even allergic to oxygen. Why would I not be allergic to mozzies? Bloody bugs.

And speaking of bugs, it turns out that my nearest neighbour here is a Collingwood supporter. He was home with a friend yesterday to watch the Grand Final replay. Personally, I wish that they could have just kept on repeating the draw until everybody gave up and moved onto next season. I wasn't actually watching the game. I didn't have to. I could hear the cheers from next door. One or other of them footy fans was outside smoking at regular intervals, polluting the air with smoke as well as sound. Turns out, mosquitoes aren't the only kind of bugs around here. Bloody Collingwood supporters.

So now I'm left with a dilemma. I know where the Collingwood supporter is, but there is nothing I can do about it. Whereas I can't find the mozzie, no matter how I search. A brief glimpse here, a flitting shadow there. But make no mistake. Once I find the little bugger, it won't be taking any more of my hemoglobin, that's for sure. If only I could do the same to the Collingwood supporter.