Had I known that it was possible to get hives on the bottoms of your feet, I never would have thought that watching "Idiocracy," that terrible, sickeningly awful movie, was the worst kind of torture imaginable. But oh ho, now I know better, don't I? Especially as I've spent nearly all of last week shuffling my feet across the carpet with every step. If I'd been able to wear socks, I would have been so static-charged that I would spend all day zapping people and things and irritating everyone. But of course I didn't have time to zap people, because I was occupied by scratching and rubbing random parts of my body on any rough surface I could find.
Apparently I'm allergic to amoxicillin. And possibly penicillin, though I don't know their relation and am too lazy to look it up. It would have been nice to know that before I had been prescribed it to fight a little cold. I'm starting to think my low self esteem and general positive outlook are directly related to my physical ailments. Actually I'm positive that's what it is.* But anyway, Monday my right hand was itchy and had a little rash. Whatev, I'd had itchy spots before. Tuesday my right big toe is itchy, and actually swells to steroid-enhanced prune size. It bothers me the whole time that me and Stephen are in the theater seeing New Moon**, after I meticulously sucked all of the alcohol out of a margarita through two tiny mixing straws and left the frozen bits behind.*** This was also after we sat in traffic in Pittsburgh, him singing a made-up graphic song in Cartman's voice, and me giggling uncontrollably. And this was after we geeked out at the ND Comics store in Cranberry for about an hour. But I digress.
Wednesday I woke up and hives were literally EVERYWHERE. I mean, my elbows and knees were basically one huge hive. Just disgusting. My feet and hands were so swollen that I couldn't bend several of my main digits without it hurting too much. Thursday they'd spread even more. My face (as you'll sort of see in the epic photo below) and ears, even. My ears are swollen. And oh yeah, that was Thanksgiving. And I sat at home and drank Naked juice (a drink probably created by God that has just been recently discovered) because I felt terrible. So, now I have a prescription for some meds and I've been instructed not to go to work the next couple days. And to be honest, I wouldn't want someone who looks diseased and swollen boxing MY groceries.
But Stephen bought me that Nabokov blanket from a couple posts ago as a surprise. Epic, eh? I adore it. And I happen to have some Christmas surprises in the works for him. Now, as long as these hives go away...I can get on with everything.
* This counts as my positive outlook for the day. I must have at least one. And there it is.
** He'll claim until he dies that I dragged him to see it, but he actually told me several times that he kind of wanted to see it. But shh...don't tell anyone I said that.
*** Because the restaurant didn't have real straws. I kid you not. They did not have real straws. Baffling.