I still itch.
After my Dear Lucy blog post yesterday, I laid down on my bunk to read a bit and fell right to sleep.
I woke up at 4:30 in the afternoon with my head feeling like it was full of wool, my mouth like I had gargled Wesson Oil, and I swear my arms grew because when I got up to walk to the bathroom, my knuckles dragged on the floor.
And, I was itchy again!
I managed to revive myself, take just one Benadryl, get a cup of gawd-awful coffee from the kitchen downstairs, and do some writing.
Now I am faced with a decision. Take a Benadryl and stop itching but feel like a cast member of Day of the Dead, or scratch.
I will chose door number one--Benadryl.
Better living through chemistry, I say.