Happy Sunday all,
I realise it seems like such a long time ago, but the momentous ‘grandmama’ event intervened into the series on my Pissouri adventures. Here is the final instalment and one I hope you’ll find funny as well as insightful. It’s a little instalment which recalls my encounter with a Mosquito, a mosquito I named ‘Maurizio the Mozzie Menace’ and what my encounter with him taught me about freeing myself into life.
Tuesday – Penultimate day in Paradise
Maurizio the ‘Mozzie’ menace…
Alright, so his name is more Italian than Greek, but I couldn’t think of a Greek name beginning with ‘M.’
Anyway, as has become my habit, I was in bed for around 9.48pm…
I dozed a bit and had some end of day dreamy thoughts when: “Zzzzzss, Zzzzzsss…Zzzzzsssssss” came whizzing past my ear. Now what you don’t know about me is that I have a very, very, very VERY severe reaction to mosquito bites and can become quite ill over time if I get several of them at once, so as you can imagine I was more than a little nervous, afraid even.
I already had one bite on my right calf which though irritating and very blistered I was coping with, but another bite might just trigger the release of too much histamine into my blood stream and then it would be a trip to the doctor. Not something I particularly wanted to deal with just two days before coming home.
Being rather short-sighted, I couldn’t see the ‘blighter’ I could only hear that threatening and persistent Zzzzss, Zzzzs, Zzzzs, so I had to don my spectacles and begin stalking the bedroom like Bear Grylls trying to annihilate the critter!
I was getting nowhere fast…
I even brought the hand towel from the bathroom and started swatting furiously; ‘thwack!’ ‘splat!’ ‘whack!’ swiping at anything remotely dark in colour and of the ‘creepy’ kind in the hope that I’d get lucky and Maurizio would be a ‘gonner.’
But, Maurizio the Mozzie menace was deft and swift and I, to all intents and purposes, must have looked like an elephant in ‘slo-mo’ to a speedy critter like Maurizio. I must have been at it over an hour and was getting desperate, so I thought I’d try another tack.
Toasted sandwich anyone?
I tucked the sheets in tight at the bottom of the bed, got under the sheets, then pulled them over my head and tucked them in over both my head and the pillows all the way round the top and sides. I was in fact, a toasted sandwich, with me as the filling; crimped and pinched inside the bottom and top sheets. It was pretty warm to say the least… the night before the Pissouri heat had been 21’ at it’s lowest and 31’ at it height during the daytime…
This was beyond stuffy, but I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t cope with another bite.
I was uncomfortable and uneasy and unable to sleep…
Maurizio was very canny.
He’d wait until I was so tired and just about drifting off then he’d come a circling… Zz…Zzz…Zzzzzzssss.
I’d lash out (again with the elephant impersonation) and miss the demon every time. It was like being stalked and you know your life depends on not falling asleep…so you drift and nod and start to drool, then suddenly you bite awake, head twitching left to right and left again, eyes bulging and frantic like a meerkat on caffeine… ‘Huh, huh?’
Not tonight Maurizio!
I’ve heard all kinds of reasons why some people are terrorised by Maurizio and his tribe of ‘terrorists’ and others aren’t; as well as how to prevent it happening: It’s the scent of your blood, it’s the carbon dioxide you exhale, it’s a lack of B vitamins, You need to eat Yeast, you need to use citronella, it’s coz you’re female and they’re attracted to the oestrogen, it’s your sweat… all I know is they terrorise me wherever they live and I was not having it.
No sir! NOT TONIGHT mi-laddo!
In an attempt to avoid ‘Maurizio the Mozzie Menace’ picking up on my breath (who knows it may be true?), I doubled up the towel and placed that over my face too whilst nestled in my little ‘envelope’ bed.
It was unbearably hot… but every now and again it would start…the sound that was now filling me with mortal fear and had me trapped unable to sleep! – ‘Zzz, Zzzz, Zzzzzsss.’
As I lay there, completely restricted and even avoiding the bathroom though (I desperately needed it) because it would take too long to parcel myself up again, I thought…
How awful it is to live in fear and how restricted we become when we do.
When we allow ourselves to become fearful of life and it’s experiences, our world becomes very small. Just like my little parcel I was restricted to moving within the confines of a 6ft bed because I feared stepping outside the boundary I’d placed around myself.
Though it was hot, I was getting hotter by the minute as my breath had no where to go but under the covers increasing the temperature and causing me to now break into a tacky, moist, sticky (and none too aromatic) sweat – urrgh!
The fear is in the thinking
I had momentarily allowed myself to become terrorised by something, which, in reality, I had blown out of proportion and was, if I’d stayed at it, something I could probably have dealt with. Sometimes we do the same thing with life… create monsters outside of our knowledge or experience and so restrict our freedom of movement and curtail our ability to move forward towards the outcome(s) we want.
We tell ourselves all kinds of things to justify staying within the familiarity of our self-constructed and self-imposed cocoon. ‘I won’t get that job, no point applying,’ They/he/she won’t want me…I’m not good enough,’ ‘I don’t have the time/money/resources/experience,’ ‘I can’t do for me because he/she/they need me,’ ‘I’m not tall/thin/pretty/handsome/fat/cute/green…whatever enough.’
We end up trapped in a limited and uncomfortable thought-space too fearful to step beyond our self-imposed boundaries to just ‘take a chance, get out of the covers and have a go at the critter!’ After all, it can’t be any more uncomfortable than feeling like a hot dog sausage in a hot sweaty bun!
- Where are you restricting yourself in life?
- Have you allowed yourself to become a toasted sandwich?
- Have you created a self-imposed cocoon?
I finally threw off the covers…released myself from my self-imposed prison and splatted the bugger!
Once I had. I stretched out across the bed enjoying my new-found, limitless bed-scape and slept a deep and guilt-free sleep. : )
So, from today.
Consider where in your life you need to emancipate ourself from your own Mozzie menace, throw off the covers,’ allow yourself out of your hot, sweaty, fear-filled prison and stretch out into a freer life.
Blissings & Much Love