i have piojos

(the following was written on Monday)
So, last week my head started itching. I figured that this was normal, seeing as I had been swimming in the pool every day, all week. I thought my scalp was dry or something. But when I realized that the itching was caused by bumps on my head instead of flaky whiteness, I began to suspect that something more devious than dandruff was at work. I had Elizabeth (the reluctant expert on piojos) check my head between church and Sabbath school this past Sabbath, and she discovered that yes, (you probably guessed it by now) I have lice. I spent the rest of my Sabbath trying not to think too much about the little bugs living in my hair, but I just couldn't help it. Because it was Sabbath I knew that I couldn't do anything about the infestation until Sunday, but I also knew that Sunday would provide ample time to rid myself of the little mites as thouroghly and methodically as possible. So yesterday we started the process--washing most of my clothes and sheets, setting my mattress out in the sun for most of the day, and treating my hair with various poisons and combing-out treatments. Elizabeth said that compared to most of the kids I only had a few lice, but to me it seemed as though they were numerous. It didn't help that the "lice-killing" shampoo didn't kill all of the little buggers. Today we continued the process, and when Elizabeth searched my hair for nits, picking them out one by one (yes, this is where the term "nit-picky" came from), she found a few more live lice. After swimming lessons I combed my hair out again, and I found a few more live ones as well. I'm not too sure that the shampoo worked it's magic on my head at all. But at least the number of lice and eggs keeps dwindling. I will continue to comb my hair for bugs and we will have the privilege of repeating the shampoo process in ten days.
(now, written today)
Today is Thanksgiving, and it really doesn't seem all that different than any other day. I was reminded of the special day this morning as my roommate talked on the phone to her fiance, wishing him a happy Thanksgiving, but I didn't feel happy about it. But something happened during the work time today: I was working with my work group raking up leaves between two staff houses and Marla was working on painting inside one of these houses with her group. She happened to be standing outside, cleaning brushes, when out of nowhere she said to me, "Happy Thanksgiving, Brittany." I felt so happy. I had been picking up the leaves that my kids had raked and it was a bit windy, so along with the holiday wishes it really felt like fall. Plus, it struck me as particularly heart-warming because we were just the right distance away from each other that it felt like we were neighbors, working in our yards and exchanging pleasantries in all friendliness. It really made me smile, and I was thankful to have a friend like Marla.