If you've seen me around town wearing 3/4 length sleeve shirts, you might be a creeper. But if you're a curious creeper, I'll explain. My arm, it is diseased. According to my Facebook friends, it is poison ivy. I tell you what, the injustice of ME getting poison ivy is just colossal. If I could get a tunnel from my front door to my van, I'd do it, just to avoid nature. I hate nature's guts.
All week I was trying to figure out what the rash on my arm was, and I turned to Google. On the bright side, googling rashes has made dieting infinitely easier. I might never eat again. Maybe it was a spider, I thought. Or bedbugs. I found one message board that had many people describing an invisible biting insect, which is a terrifying thought. You'd think, in this day and age, we could get rid of invisible insects. I lay awake at night, thinking about the spiders laying in wait, about the bedbugs and my 20/20 special when my whole body became a mass of itchy red bumps and I had to forsake society completely.
So after several days of putting various substances on it to make it quit itching, and then just giving up and scratching it all to smithereens, and then today I had enough and took to Facebook, where it was determined to be poison ivy and someone suggested Benadryl. I have children's Benadryl, but nothing for grownups. So I hit up the neighbors and they brought some over, and I partook.
Now I am floating, high above the cares of this life. My arm doesn't itch much, because I can't feel my arms, waving gently in the breeze like a red silk scarf. I am fairly sure that everyone who is grounded from computers is currently watching a movie, but I am unconcerned, because everyone knows that life is beautiful. You are all beautiful, all of you. I need a snack.