Every spring or early summer, I get hit with a bizarre problem at least once. A mosquito will get into the bedroom, and instead of feasting on any other, more convenient exposed part of me, it lands on my left eyelid and takes a nice, long drink. The result is me waking up looking like I was in a bar fight last night. Thank goodness for self-employment, as I’m not fit for public viewing (last year when this happened, I called in sick to work). Tomorrow I have a job interview, of all things (a freelance gig with a big broadcast corporation), so tonight I’m sleeping with a face mask and a layer of bug repellent. I can’t risk walking in there looking like a battered woman.