morning

I woke up early to the rain–pre-sunrise early, which is saying something. We closed the window in time; only the newspaper, resting below the open window, was ruined. I went back to sleep before Joe was back into bed from shutting the window.

The window-closing was a good thing. Screens don't exist in France, & it's been causing a problem. The weather is hot here–reaching 82 F yesterday (nearly 28 C)–so we don't like to close the window when evening comes with a breeze & cools the apartment. But when the sun fully sets & the light gets turned on (not until 9:30 or 10 recently), the bugs arrive. I'm being eaten alive in my own apartment, one bite reaching through my shorts and to the cheek of my butt.  Not awkward at all when that starts itching in public.

This morning, after a second early wake-up call from the screaming boys in the apartment below us (whose favorite playing spot is RIGHT by the window that is directly below our window), I immediately sat at my computer with a tray of breakfast brownies. (Okay, so they're just brownies, but they're all we've got for breakfast. It's grocery day.) I looked at the window and noticed a small swarm of gnats. I laughed at them, bashing against the mostly closed window. I thought they were trying to get in.

False. When I realized that they were trying to get out, I set to work. I grabbed a paper towel and just started smashing my whole hand at the window, feeling every bite on my body itching at once. The tiny insides smeared neon green against the glass, & I needed a new paper towel.

That was fifteen minutes ago. Since the first attach, I've relaunched & killed about four generations of Window-bashing Bugs. Estimated casualties: 60. I can't handle it.

I've started going to bed wrapped in the comforter, protecting every inch of my skin but waking up a sweaty, stuffy mess... with new bug bites. They don't seem to be a problem during the day, escaping the apartment when the light is brighter outside than in the West-facing apartment.

We're escaping early this morning, getting out of the apartment & over to the market for a small Sunday adventure & coconut shrimp supplies. I have a feeling today, instead of the usual smell of French fries floating to us from the nearby kebab stand, we'll smell the family cook-outs & barbeques that seemed to be starting yesterday.

The smell of charcoal reminds me of home.

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