It has been two days since I ventured outside. In hindsight the funny thing is I went outside to spray bug repellent. My house had been looking a little too welcoming for spiders and I was a tired of walking through their webs to get to the front door.
I really only spent 30 minutes outside. It wasn't long. I laughed. I sprayed bug spray. The little one played in water. Sure I saw one, two mosquitoes biting me. One on my arm and one on my leg. I squashed them and they obediently exploded coating me in my own blood they had so kindly liberated from me.
It has been two days and here I sit covered in no less than 18 bug bites. I suppose I have never been one of the lucky ones. I remember long ago visiting Illinois with a friend of mine. We stopped to see the Mississippi River. At dusk. We were there a short time because we were naturally afraid of sea monsters. I suppose we should've been more worried about the wall of mosquitoes. Luckily for the others the little blood suckers bypassed them and left me with no less than 30 bites on my back alone.
Always looking for a way to dissuade the little bastards from feasting on my blood I will try suggestions. I went to a barbecue once and the cool thing was to use this lotion that worked wonders at keeping mosquitoes away. Well, for everyone else it appeared. After watching everyone else put it on I gave it a shot.
I might as well have slathered myself in gravy and put on a neon sign that read 'all you can eat.' Again I was covered in bug bites while everyone else got off scott free.
Since this is a reoccurring theme in my life I have put some thought into what could cause this. Now, I would like to say that I am not one to go in for conspiracy theories, but since I came up with this one on my own I feel like I don't really have a choice.
The reason mosquitoes are so fond of me is because blood banks have trained them to go after me.
See, I am not keen on donating blood. I have, but I am not happy about it. The first time I donated I screamed when they swabbed me with the alcohol, but I trudged through because I got out of algebra.
Unfortunately, my blood type came back as O+. Since that is a popular type and I am not a willing donor the blood banks have taken matters into their own hands with these trained collection mosquitoes.
So, here I sit fighting the urge to itch and cursing the day the blood banks learned I was O+. Oh, Caladryl! Take me away!
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