It started at approximately 2 pm.
All was well in the office – I was working away when I announced, “Something bit me!”
*scratch scratch scratch*
Just above my elbow on my right arm, an itchy spot.
After more scratching and audible discomfort, a theory from a co-worker “Maybe it was a chigger.”
*scratch scratch scratch*
Very audible incredulous gasp.
“Do we even HAVE those?!?!? Gawd!! They look like shell-less hermit crab/tick/spiders!”
The probability that we have these is VERY slim considering a) the giggles that ensued after my question and b) the lack of vegetation in the desert.
But now I was even more itchy.
I floated the idea that perhaps it was psychosomatic. Just looking at that freaking picture made me want to scratch.
Suffice it to say, I’m highly suggestible and prone to empathetic reactions to my environment and yes, my imagination.
I’ll get that fear ‘whoosh’ sensation when someone is looking off of something like a rooftop or a cliff in a movie.
I find myself panicking and holding my breath when I’m watching someone else underwater or in a confined space.
I acknowledge this – I was leaving room for the itch to be in my head.
Which, coincidentally, is where it ended up.
It would not quit!
By 3:30 I was scratching my face, arms, tear ducts, eyelashes, ears and head.
By 3:31 I was wishing I could scratch the inside of my nose and wash the back of my eyeballs.
“I’m going to get some Benadryl.”
I’ve heard that Benadryl helps allergic reactions – not that I would know.
I am not allergic to anything.
I could roll in grass if I wanted to – during Spring, after eating peanuts, shell-fish, gluten and dairy while any hair adorned creature sat directly on my face and not have a reaction!
(Except for maybe, “Please get off of my face.”)
“Did you eat something different??”
No, I assured everyone that my boring weekday sandwich and chips were consumed and nothing out of the ordinary reached my mouth.
“Sometimes when you get older you develop allergies.” A female co-worker quipped.
So now I’m feeling old and itchy.
I scratched over to the gas station, ready to lay down big money for a mini-pack of Benadryl.
They did not have Benadryl.
Groan. *scratch scratch scratch*
They did have a box of generic “Allergy” pills that turned out to be overpriced, bright pink and useless.
I’m talking, seriously BRIGHT pink – I don’t think I’ve ever SEEN such pink.
Until the end of the day when I examined parts of my body.
I’m still scratching and am ready to remove my skin, turn it inside out and grate it with a rock at this point.
And on my elbow? A small bite bump.
Whatever got me – I am allergic to it.
If only I knew what it was.
It might turn out to be Wednesdays.