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morslaSleep didn't answer the call last night. I think I've overdrawn my account.
Fortunately, I'm managing to get plenty of work done despite the erratic health. One advantage of spending hours unable to sleep is that you get plenty of time to plan the things you should do the next day - it's not especially relaxing, but it's better than staring blankly at the ceiling.
My immune system is still on edge. Something triggered a major allergic response while I walked into the city on Friday night... when the first spots appeared, I assumed I'd been bitten by something. They swelled and spread across my arms and back, itching like mad. I'd never seen anything like it, so I tried to isolate every possible trigger, mentally retracing the past 24 hours. It was a good distraction, concentrating on something other than the need to grow claws and tear off my skin.
I reached a pharmacy just before closing time - the front door was shut, but a glance at my arms convinced them to let me in. It took two hours for the antihistamines to have any noticeable effect, first numbing the itches, then diminishing the rash, and then knocking me unconscious with the sort of sleep that only comes attached to chemicals - black, dreamless and bruising. Before I fell asleep, I took photos of each arm in case I saw a doctor. In the morning, as I'd suspected, the marks on my skin had faded without trace.
I think I've had enough. Whoever I antagonised, whatever strings have been tied to me, I'm over it. You have a problem, world, you damn well come here and say it to my face.
Fortunately, I'm managing to get plenty of work done despite the erratic health. One advantage of spending hours unable to sleep is that you get plenty of time to plan the things you should do the next day - it's not especially relaxing, but it's better than staring blankly at the ceiling.
My immune system is still on edge. Something triggered a major allergic response while I walked into the city on Friday night... when the first spots appeared, I assumed I'd been bitten by something. They swelled and spread across my arms and back, itching like mad. I'd never seen anything like it, so I tried to isolate every possible trigger, mentally retracing the past 24 hours. It was a good distraction, concentrating on something other than the need to grow claws and tear off my skin.
I reached a pharmacy just before closing time - the front door was shut, but a glance at my arms convinced them to let me in. It took two hours for the antihistamines to have any noticeable effect, first numbing the itches, then diminishing the rash, and then knocking me unconscious with the sort of sleep that only comes attached to chemicals - black, dreamless and bruising. Before I fell asleep, I took photos of each arm in case I saw a doctor. In the morning, as I'd suspected, the marks on my skin had faded without trace.
I think I've had enough. Whoever I antagonised, whatever strings have been tied to me, I'm over it. You have a problem, world, you damn well come here and say it to my face.
