Today was the seventh day of the seven day itch.
No, dirty minds, I don’t go through a new bloke every week.
Heating in Ukraine is an interesting concept. The city (i.e. council) heats our apartment. In fact, the city heats most of the apartments in Kyiv. It’s turned on in October, and turned off in March.
All day, every day, our apartment is heated to a balmy 21.5 degrees. I can’t turn it down, and I can’t turn it off. That’s just the way life is. As tenants, we don’t even have to pay for it.
The problem is, when a cold snap comes, the heat goes mad. For the past week, I’ve been sweating out the cold snap (when I’m not freezing, of course) in 25 degree heat, because the city has shovelled a little too much coal into the furnace. The inevitable result is that I’m constantly dehydrated. And really bloody itchy.
This morning, after a rather sleepless 25 degree night*, I woke up and surveyed the damage. I’ve sweated through two sets of pyjamas this week, I have a heat rash on my arms, I’ve scratched off skin on my shins, and I have bruises around my knees from my ferocious scratching.
Of course, it doesn’t help that I insist on sleeping under a doona (duvet, quilt, whatever). I can’t sleep any other way.
In Australia, Mr Moi and I never owned a heater. On those 10 degree winter nights in Sydney (it does happen), we watched telly with crocheted granny rugs on our laps. When things got really bad, we’d be in bed at 7pm watching telly from underneath the doonas.
This heating thing, with no open windows and no moisture in the air, is new to us.
I know you’re thinking, “Well, why don’t you just buy some moisturiser? Surely this would be the cure for the seven day itch?”
Well, the truth is, I tried. I really did. But it was so confusing looking at all the Russian labels on the shelf, that I just gave up. I didn’t want to buy something for oily skin when I have dry skin. My hormone balance, in general, is erratic enough, without messing with the pH balance of my largest organ. (Ohh. On proof read, that sounds a bit dirty. But I’ll remind readers that I’m a girl).
Secretly, being itchy made me feel a bit tough. It’s like ‘tough’, at a discount. I thought I could tough it out.
Except, the cold has finally caught up with the heat, and apartment has now dropped to about 15 degrees. As a result, I have three jumpers on and am sitting under a doona. And the confined dry heat is making me itchier than ever.
* Many women in Ukraine are very beautiful. Now, Mr Moi has never given me reason to think that he even looks at other women – I’ve never seen him do it, and if I comment on a stunner who’s just walked past, he’s totally oblivious.
Regardless, last night I had a dream that he met a lovely beautiful girl and I caught him talking to her. Then, at 3am this morning, he woke me up saying, “Little Miss Babe, have you seen my wedding ring? It’s fallen off, I can’t find it!” Half asleep, I patted the sheets and my pillow, to no avail.
When I woke up this morning, I found his wedding ring clutched in my hand under the pillow. I have a suspicion that, when he cheated on me in my dreams, I grabbed his hand and yanked off his wedding ring. And, in case you’re wondering, I did give him the silent treatment for cheating on me in my dreams.
See? I’m a tough bird.