Whenever I complain about bug-bites, which is A LOT, most people horrendously fail at making me feel better. Sure, I am well aware that nothing they say or do can help relieve the merciless itching that comes from 17 bug-bites on my legs (YES, I COUNTED EXACTLY 17), but still. I enjoy making people aware of my pain and then commenting sarcastically in my head when their responses fall flat of usefulness.
***And my all time favorite***
I'm not going to wear bug spray every time I step outside. No. That stuff is gross, sticky, smelly, and doesn't even work half the time.
Anyway... I am fully aware that complaining about bug bites is just a way to beg for half-hearted pity from my friends and family... but hey. I don't have much else going on right now. When people ask me what's on my mind during the summer, when I hardly do anything other than sleep until twelve and pig out on whatever is laying around the house... dealing with itchy bug bites is honestly the most interesting thing to talk about. At least, for me it is. It's what I think about nearly all day as I try not to scratch and lather on the itch-X. In any case, I appreciate the efforts people put in to trying to make me feel better, despite my inner cynicism. I'm really just upset about the itchiness. I'm honestly glad my friends don't just blatantly say, "SHUT UP, GFISH. NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR FREAKISHLY WEIRD BUG BITES."
Also, for some reason all of my bug-bites seem to ignite in itchiness at exactly 2:00AM. I'm not sure why, but at 2:00AM on the dot for the past two nights since I've gotten these bites, I've woken up and couldn't stop scratching. Maybe I've discovered the Hour of the Bites, when all bug-bites awaken to cause the ultimate chaos. It appears I've stumbled across some age-old ritual of blood sucking tradition. A coincidence time-bomb of discomfort. I must look into this revelation tonight, when 2:00AM rolls around and I once again get the urge to chop my legs off with a nail file.