It appears, Gentle Reader, that at some point last Thursday, I came into contact with something itchy. A bug or plant of some kind that disagreed quite violently with my body.
By Friday night, I had a mass of giant hives all over my torso and my greatest desire was to simply scratch all the skin off my body. Which my meanie husband would not allow me to do.
Instead I ingested copious amounts of benadryl and rubbed a few different types of ointments on my welty hives. (That word ‘ointment’ cracks me up. I think it sounds hilarious, but that could just be the benadryl talking.)
The rest of the weekend has been a sleepy blur filled with few coherent moments. I’m pretty sure I went to the Mary Poppins musical at Beef and Boards with my cousins. And I seem to remember eating roasted brussels sprouts yesterday evening. They were surprisingly decent. Other than that, I believe I slept most of the time.
Today I’m going to see how the land lies, so to speak, without the aid of medicine. Hopefully, my body is back to normal.
Fingers crossed, Gentle Reader. Fingers crossed.