I think something bit me.

The skin of my throat has formed a series of parallel dry white ridges, which, with sufficient patience, can be peeled off one by one, leaving behind a set of tidy red lines. I have applied olive oil and lotion, skipped shaving, examined and changed my sheets and pillowcase, and investigated myself for other threatened locales; none are obvious. I have been reading 7 Seeds, and was this morning briefly sleepily concerned that I was being eaten up by the series's mutant ferrobacteria.

But it was probably just a spider. This house has too many spiders.