Stick a Fork in Me

No, really do it.

I think it would feel good, and then I could use the fork to scratch myself.

I am so done.

Done.

DONE!

Have you ever come to the end of your rope?

I am there.

The knot is slipping out too.

I just got back from Express Care and got a weeks worth of steroids for this blasted poison ivy.

As of yesterday - it wasn't 'too' terrible.  I mean, I looked like I've been horsewhipped, but it was manageable.

I do something odd, or at least maybe you'll think it's odd, I look in the mirror every night before bed and just look at my face and tell myself - "well girl - you are one day closer to meeting your Maker" - and then I look at my face, and realize that this is as young as I'll ever be.  

Last night, I noticed that the poison ivy patches around my eyes looked worse.  I could see more coming up around my ear and neck.

I slipped into the coolness of the percale sheets donned only in my birthday suit, and the coolness eased my itch.

I thought I felt something moving on my buttocks.

I certainly did.

I had a tick stuck to my rump.

Entering level one of doneness.

My 600 sq foot garden apartment in Chicago surrounded by cement is looking good right about now.

Somewhere around 1am while I was still awake, my body decided to have a hot flash.

Have you ever had a hot flash while covered in poison ivy and a tanning bed sunburn, on top of a sunburn from riding the mower with shorts and a tank top?

I'm just going to let you know - it's not for the faint of heart.

I felt like I was working in the steel mills again near the blast furnace.

Entering level two of doneness

Why don't I go out and roll around in the beehives for good measure?

I woke up about 7:15 this morning to the phone ringing.

It was Glenco calling to check on me.

I was so confused I couldn't find the phone - it was right there on the charger, but I couldn't find it.  I was walking around the living room hunkered down trying to track the ringing - oh, and I was naked, and sunburnt, and covered in poison ivy.

After I found the phone, talked to Glenco for a minute, I woke up.  My face felt really odd, my eyes, they felt burning, itching - it hurt to blink, but felt good to blink at the same time.

My face was on fire.

I looked in the mirror.  

Lord have mercy on my soul.

My face is covered.

I'm hideous, look away.

I just wanted to cry. 

I just wanted to go back to bed.

I just wanted a lot of things that involved wheat and sugar.

That's when I realized I would go on to the Express care.

I'm so doggoned tired.

My neighbor and dear friend, whom I clean for on Fridays told me to take the day off and rest, and she said such other nice stuff, it made me cry right there in the doctor's office as I sat on the paper lined bench.  Luckily, you couldn't detect they were tears since my eyes are so swollen and red from the poison ivy.

I worried about losing the money that I would make today, and on top of it all have to pay the Dr. and prescriptions.

Enter level three of doneness.

This is when lights start flashing and warning sirens are going off.

I start scolding myself for being the biggest idiot in Lake County Indiana.

A Master Gardener, covered in poison ivy.  I know better.  I sure never do better.  

As I drove home, I started realizing that I really don't think I can keep up the pace I'm on.  I'm tired.  Life, my hormones, my body, my mind - everything is changing.  I keep fighting the change, but it's winning.  I need to slow down a little ( a lot ).  Why I 'go big or go home' I don't know.  Why I can't be happy with one or two hives, I don't know.  Why I can't just have a handful of chickens?  I don't know.  Who in the sam hill made me plant a 2000 sq foot vegetable garden!?

I do know that I'm spending the day curled up with a back scratcher, a handful of Zyrtec and steriods and my cats.  I pity the fool that comes between me and that scratch stick.