The thing about this noon is that I can hear a rooster crow on one end of the room and tv sounds of repetitive brain cell death march on the other.
Something about this house that has me feeling like I'm living at the end of a tunnel and what am I if not claustrophobic?
Speaking of which I have negotiated myself out of the mosquito net situation because it was so out of my comfort zone that I might as well be inside a trench.
The mosquito net is since gone. I have now procured citronella essential oil that burns inside the room a few hour prior and there's nary a mosquito except pleasant residual mildly citric scent.
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