... I live in a place, I do some kind of work, I like cookies, I just watched every episode of the Sarah Silverman Show, I have earlobes the size of half-dollars, I'm covered in a red, itchy rash from head to toe, and I'm very fond of keeping my airways open. I think you know what I'm talking about. Yes, breathing. I like to breathe. So far so good.
Melissa said that I should blog about this illness because it's funny. But is it, IS IT REALLY?? Or maybe she meant I'm funny. Who the hell knows what she was talking about? I can barely understand spoken and/or written English right now. Every time I look at a book or a computer my incredibly blotchy and hideous hands are right there! Leading to my blotchy arms, and even though I have on clothing with the most coverage possible -- yes, it's my first burqa -- I know that the hideousness that is my skin is everywhere.
When I must go out, which I have tried to avoid, I skulk around trying to look all inconspicuous in that special way that only a 6 foot tall woman covered in hives can look -- that's pretty damn inconspicuous, I think you'll agree.
And what's with all this swearing? Well, I'm pretty sure I have some of that old 'roid rage. You know how it is, I scream at people from my car, I have no patience for anything, and I skulk around until I hear some kid say "Mommy, what's wrong with that lady?" and then I throw off my burqa and roar "ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME? ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME?????!!!" until the kid starts to cry. It's just who I am now. There are things you just have to accept about yourself.
I missed most of the work week but was forced to drag myself in today, but now I think I can hole up for a couple more days and perhaps I'll be feeling fine by Monday... or perhaps I'll start wheezing and I'll have to use my EpiPen and call 911. Who knows? I'm flexible -- and I love surprises. I know I would appreciate life even more after a few near death experiences.
Or maybe I would appreciate life a really, really lot if I could just go out of the house without looking like a monster and feeling like a slug.
Oh, did I mention my new sexy, husky voice -- you know, the kind you only get when you look hideous? So if any of you handsome gents get a sexy phone call over the weekend, try to visualize me in my usual goddess-type glory. I would really appreciate it.
Thank you for indulging me.
Melissa said that I should blog about this illness because it's funny. But is it, IS IT REALLY?? Or maybe she meant I'm funny. Who the hell knows what she was talking about? I can barely understand spoken and/or written English right now. Every time I look at a book or a computer my incredibly blotchy and hideous hands are right there! Leading to my blotchy arms, and even though I have on clothing with the most coverage possible -- yes, it's my first burqa -- I know that the hideousness that is my skin is everywhere.
When I must go out, which I have tried to avoid, I skulk around trying to look all inconspicuous in that special way that only a 6 foot tall woman covered in hives can look -- that's pretty damn inconspicuous, I think you'll agree.
And what's with all this swearing? Well, I'm pretty sure I have some of that old 'roid rage. You know how it is, I scream at people from my car, I have no patience for anything, and I skulk around until I hear some kid say "Mommy, what's wrong with that lady?" and then I throw off my burqa and roar "ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME? ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME?????!!!" until the kid starts to cry. It's just who I am now. There are things you just have to accept about yourself.
I missed most of the work week but was forced to drag myself in today, but now I think I can hole up for a couple more days and perhaps I'll be feeling fine by Monday... or perhaps I'll start wheezing and I'll have to use my EpiPen and call 911. Who knows? I'm flexible -- and I love surprises. I know I would appreciate life even more after a few near death experiences.
Or maybe I would appreciate life a really, really lot if I could just go out of the house without looking like a monster and feeling like a slug.
Oh, did I mention my new sexy, husky voice -- you know, the kind you only get when you look hideous? So if any of you handsome gents get a sexy phone call over the weekend, try to visualize me in my usual goddess-type glory. I would really appreciate it.
Thank you for indulging me.
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