I think I'm allergic to my sweater.
It's like my skin is erupting with fury, a torturous itch, and I get all absentminded and scratch, and then my skin (absurdly sensitive) blossoms into all these truly horrific welts that look like someone beat the tar out of me.
The tag SAYS it's acrylic and wool (I know, I know, acrylic sucks; I don't usually opt for it, but this sweater was pretty and really on sale), and since neither of those usually bothers me, I'm wondering if the wool is angora...I hate angora...
Bah. It's a red sweater, too, which is one of my favorite colors, and now it nicely matches my pink welty complexion.
And I didn't bring a change of clothes to work, of course.
Oh well. Time to haul my itchy ass off to lunch. (Speaking of lunch -- which is leftover chicken and biscuits -- the trick to reheating biscuits is to pop them in the toaster or toaster oven. It's quick and keeps them crisp and flaky instead of turning them all spongy and gross like the microwave does to them.)
I really, really like my new job.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
The Year of More and Less
Life continues apace. I like being in my late thirties. I have my shit roughly together. I'm more secure and confident in who I am....
-
I feel compelled by the glass of wine I just sipped to be honest. I'm lonely. Heart-rendingly, agonizingly lonely. For many reasons. Ob...
-
The past two Sundays, I've gone with the boss-man to a nearby shooting range and learned to handle a gun. For those of you who know me f...
-
"Everyday" is an adjective. "Every day" is an adverbial phrase. This is one of those subtle distinctions the confusion o...
No comments:
Post a Comment