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Holy Mary mother of God
My back is writhing with what is apparently known as Hell's Itch, or Suicide Itch. A ceaseless and unrelenting cascade of itches and tingles that knows no relief - pure, unadulterated torture.
On Monday, I was outside digging a trench in my sister's backyard for the gas boiler, and after getting all hot and sweaty I figured I'd take my shirt off - just for a little while, you know, not long enough to get burnt. I will never, ever, make this mistake again.
Yesterday I wore a long-sleeve shirt while I was back in the garden, and it was fine; the usual discomfort of a sunburn. But when I woke up this morning, I ended up running around the kitchen waving my arms around, screaming and stomping my feet. I'm still twitching now.
I called my dad and, owing to his own experience of it many years ago, he actually understood and told me to stay home (usually my father wouldn't care about suffering - it builds character, and so on).
I went to the pharmacy and got some Eurax, which I applied after a shower. Then there was another fifteen or twenty minutes of running about and howling before it started to take effect. It's not quite as bad as earlier, but it's still prickling and tingling very unpleasantly, and the worst thing is that there's no true relief.
Learn from my stupidity, Hubski! Drown yourself in sunscreen and never take your shirt off!
- I got called wishy-washy so many times when conversations came up about him, because I would talk about things he did that I thought were awful and things about him that I thought were great, and people really wanted me to pick one side or the other and stick with it.
This attitude seems to be really common. I've had a few discussions with close friends recently who feel as you do, and we all agree that whenever we voice any kind of "in-between" position, or just talk about the good and the bad in equal measure, that people tend to view it as sitting on the fence and not picking a side, as if life is supposed to be as simple as a game of football.
It is gorgeous outside today. A little breezy, but we really can't complain when the sun is blazing down like this.
The work with my dad has settled down a little bit, but it's unpredictable. Some days are short, some days are long. I'm also still doing my wee bit of work at the pub, so it's nice to earn a little bit of money. It's good to be busy in general.
I've have been growing increasingly concerned about the next step, though. This way of living is not something I can or want to do for very much longer; unfortunately, the thought of The Future makes me break out in a cold sweat.
I have made little progress on the book: getting home and thinking "nah, I'm too tired - tomorrow", which never got anyone anywhere. On the plus side, a couple of friends read the first draft, and didn't hate it. Yeah!
So basically I'm coming to a point where I really need to plan my next move. Move back up to Dublin and look for bar work, maybe? I dunno; I don't know what I want. Oh no, I'm one of those millenials.
Two days ago was the anniversary of the start of my walk. Hopefully, I will post a Hubski write-up before the anniversary of its end.
I watched Rashomon the other day and I think I've discovered where the convention in anime of intense closeups comes from. The film's great; check it out.
The black bloc just took on a whole new meaning.
Good on you! They're ridiculously heavy on sugar. I'm partial to the odd can of Coke (it tastes better canned) or rockshandy (a mix of lemon and orange fizzy drinks that originated in Dublin) but not that often.
Milk with jam?!