I’m covered in poison ivy (well, my right arm is) and the basement has been flooding for two days.
I’ve been pretty depressed for the past two weeks … probably to the point where I would hibernate like I usually do, except I have a boyfriend who wants to see me and 67 year-old roommate I need to escape on occasion. But aside from the lingering sadness, life has been pretty relaxing.
I forgot what it was like to have stuff like this on my mind … to live in this state of permanent anxiety and worry. When you’re in a semi-caretaker role for a year, that’s how you live. You get used to this thing lurking in your thoughts, always hovering over you even when you’re not acknowledging it directly.
These days, I get nervous when I’m too relaxed. For someone with a life like mine, it simply means something bad is coming. I’m almost relieved to be worrying about itching and Benadryl and fans and towels and stuff. Maybe that means I’m ready for parenthood? I’ll bet that’s what it’s like. (Did I just imply that my future children are a perpetual nightmare? Maybe.)
I suppose the point on this entry is, if you haven’t seen me in a while, it’s because I’m hibernating. And if you do see me and I smell like old dirty water and medicine, it’s because I’m covered in it.
Also, did you know that running hot water (not boiling, but the kind that turns your skin pink) over poison ivy feels like an orgasm? Well, it does. How have I never noticed this before? If showers didn’t flood my basement, I would probably still be in there right now. Woooo.