The bugs have found me.
It started with what I thought were mutant mosquitos that attacked me in the middle of the night. My second day in Scotland, I woke up with several itchy bites, two on my ankle and one—fortunately enough—on my face. It looks like I’ve got some sort of blemish disease, which is a great confidence booster on my mission to find a Scottish husband. “Hi, my name is Jenny, and I’m the elephant woman.”
The face bite seemed to grow in circumference over the first day, at which point I noticed another bite, this time on my finger. What kind of death defying mosquitos ARE these?
The finger bite reminds me of when I sprained my ankle and it looked like I’d replaced my ankle with a tennis ball: it forcefully protrudes from the joint. (I hope you’re enjoying the imagery here.)
Long story short, my new Scottish friend told me I was bitten by “Midges,” which are gnat-like creatures that bite for no other reason than pleasure. And I may have gotten them whilst running because he says they’re attracted to sweaty creatures.
[Please, gentlemen, form an orderly queue for the sweaty elephant woman.]
I also had another bug experience that will terrify my mother, so I won’t go into detail, but while exercising in the park, it’s possible I contracted Lyme disease. Only time will tell, but the prognosis seems positive. Wait. Negative? That is, no Lyme disease.
I think the universe is telling me I should stop exercising on vacation.
P.S. “Jenny Bee” is the nickname the tennis kids gave me the day there was a bee hanging at the tennis courts. The bee swarmed only around me, and for some reason, they found this wildly amusing. And then there was the wasp incident in New Zealand. I must have received a curse on the day of my birth.
P.P.S. That was a startling 28 years ago today.
P.P.P.S. Anyone reading this in the Edinburgh area, come party with us tonight! The more the merrier.