Hate them. I don't know why they bite me, but not people around me - I had 4 bites this morning on my ankles (and toes! Why, for the love of God, would you bite my toes? Do you *know* how itchy that is? Yet how miserably unsatisfactory scratching your toes are? No, you're a mosquito, you don't have toes. Bastard thing - I hope mosquitos have a mosquito-equivalent that bites them on their mosquito-equivalent-of-toes.) and he had none. Life is unfair.

On the other hand, it's sunny and warm, my balcony smells pleasantly of basil, I've had coffee, and I'm up to 2800 words already, and it's only 8:30. Admittedly, reading Thatcher's speeches before 9 in the morning could be construed as cruel and unusual punishment, but it may be best to get these things over and done with before my brain really wakes up...

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