October 10, 2024, 10:39 am | Read time: 4 minutes
An adult should sleep no less than seven hours to be fit for the next day. So if the alarm clock is set for 6 a.m. and you go to bed at 10 p.m., you will get exactly the right amount of sleep unless a mosquito decides not to let you. A tirade of hate from our editor, Laura Graichen.
Sleep is my cornerstone. Without it, I’m unproductive and don’t feel well. That’s why I don’t usually go to bed too late. In summer, however, going to bed early is one of those things. Sometimes, it’s just too bright; sometimes, it’s far too hot. Last night was exactly the opposite. It actually started out as a perfect night for sleeping. The clouds in the sky meant it was dark a little earlier than usual, and it had cooled down considerably thanks to a downpour during the day. Perfect conditions to fall blissfully asleep. If only I hadn’t fallen victim to a thirsty mosquito in my bedroom.
A 15-millimeter tyrant
An adult mosquito does not grow larger than 15 millimeters. Nevertheless, it still manages to make a person over 1.70 meters tall feel completely helpless. In this case, that person was me.
I had just fallen asleep and was lost in the beginnings of a dream when a never-ending itch in the crook of my right arm brought me back to reality. Drowsy, I scratched my skin, almost sore, and fell asleep again – until suddenly it was there.
The buzzing. The buzzing.
The sound that you immediately recognize among thousands. The sound that instantly makes you flinch, become aggressive, and flail around in a completely uncoordinated manner.
When the madness begins
I looked at the clock: just after two in the morning. The enemy had made itself at home in my bedroom and was just waiting to attack. What perfidious predilection drives mosquitoes to always fly at your ear? As if they were trying to tell you: You can’t see me, but I’m here, always ready to suck you dry and torment you with itchy bites.
That’s why I sprayed myself with insect repellent in the middle of the night, even misting the whole bed with it. In the hope of keeping them away from me. Far from it. An hour later, I was still wide awake in my bed. The only difference: I now also had bites on my middle finger, my right ankle, and my left thigh.
I just wanted to sleep, but she wouldn’t let me. This spawn of darkness, which must have swollen to five times its original size by now, with all the blood it had taken from me.
My only solution: murder
With my eyes fixed on the darkness, my ears pricked up to hear the next attack in time, and my hands in strike position, I waited half the night to finally send the one mosquito in my bedroom to its death.
Normally, I try to put insects outside rather than kill them, although I am disgusted by them and even afraid of some of them. But with the flying devils, there is only one acceptable solution for me: a redemptive strike that puts an end to the damned buzzing, preferably with both hands or with a heavy object against the wall.
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The never-ending agony
Just to get that satisfying feeling of revenge and to finally be able to sleep, I even switched on the light and meticulously searched the bedroom for the mosquito. But suddenly, of course, it stopped buzzing and didn’t dare come near me – knowing full well that it would definitely be fatal for it. Clever monster.
The sad end to my night of horror: After a few pointless swats at nothing, a failed hunt in the light, a few tantrums, and loud curses, it was finally 04:36. My bites itched like hell. But my eyes were heavy, and from sheer hate-filled exhaustion, I fell asleep for just under an hour and a half. And the mosquito? Probably already waiting in my bedroom for round two.