Summer has absolutely kicked my arse this year - I don't remember it being so humid and cloying since 2000 (my first Sydney summer). I don't cope well with the heat - I don't like my make-up running, I don't like sweating and I'm NOT a fan of sunburn.
And the heat has leached all my motivation/creativity/spirit/will to live. I haven't cleaned the house for ages, I can't be bothered cooking, my sewing machine has cobwebs. De and I are walking once a week rather than every night.
Then there are the mosquitos (to which I am allergic). I spend most of the summer with painful and inflamed bite marks on my legs (and arms, and face, and chest. And pretty much everywhere else). And the fleas! I have NO IDEA how my cat gets fleas - he has supervised access to the enclosed front courtyard which has no lawn, and has no contact with other animals - but oh hell yeah, he gets the fleas.
OK, so 'funny' story: we were going out the other night, and I could feel a hair brushing my cheek, but couldn't find it to touch it. I looked in the mirror and discovered that there was a flea on my face.
Let's do that again, shall we? I was about to go to a nice restaurant for dinner and there was a FLEA ON MY FACE. Seriously, that was one of those primal moments from which I may never recover.
I mean, I Frontline, I bomb, I lux, I powder, but the little buggers are still there! And nobody else ever gets bitten or anything (and I'm fairly sure David's never see a flea) but because I'm so allergic to the bities they lurrrve me and lie in wait for me.
Thankfully it looks like the temperatures might start dropping over the next few weeks. I've been taking massive amounts of B vitamins to combat the blues and started planning what I need to do next. I refuse to be beaten by a season.
Oh actually I have done something - I made a lap blanket for De. Here Mr Puss indicates that my colour blocking is simplistic and jejeune:
But he has fleas, what does he know.
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