The past couple of months have been seemingly imaginary, and could only possibly re-iterate the notion that my life is a full-length, cartoon feature film. I suppose that I could illustrate and attempt to justify my hiatus, and I will give you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
I have missed being a blogging hedgehog. It has felt like a little, blog-shaped piece of my heart was missing from my chest cavity. The madness started with a mere itch, southwest of my belly button. I lifted up the bottom hem of my t-shirt to see a line of five, small bumps. I scratched the bumps casually, thinking that perhaps an ant or something of the like was trapped in my clothing. Come nightfall, the bumps had increased in size, practically connecting and becoming a single, giant welt. The itching sensation had increased, and there were two more bites by my right elbow, that were equally as irritating. I sat up in my bed, staring at the bites, contemplating the cause, when a small, black dot crawled out of my skin and made its way across the mountain of bites. I, surprisingly calm, picked up the tiny creature with my pointer finger and thumb, and observed it. There were no visible legs, so I figured that it was a piece of fuzz that I imagined to have been moving.
I dumbly continued to stare at the bites, determined to prove to myself that it was indeed, a piece of lint. Soon, two others came. I panicked, snatching them up and dousing my stomach with hydrogen peroxide. I was scratching wildly now, convinced that I had been consumed by bugs, eating me from the inside out. Feeling feral and out of control, I even entertained the idea of finding a sharp knife from the downstairs kitchen and cleanly cutting the bites off. I was hysterical, and barely slept an hour a midst my twitching and pathetic internet searches on parasites.
The next day, I miserably covered myself and visited the local urgent care facility. The extremely aloof doctor informed me that I had mites, and prescribed a full body cream and steroids to help the itching and swelling of the bites. It quite simply happens like this: The mites (from animals or other living things) find your body as a host, and burrow within your skin, sucking your blood, breeding, and laying eggs. They travel throughout your body, causing the unpleasant itchiness. Mites can attach to new hosts by physical contact, or can live up to a few days on clothes, stuffed animals, or other surfaces. And for whatever reason, these little bugs found a home in me.
I engaged in a 24 hour quarantine, washing everything in my room and tying them up tightly in multiple garbage bags. Paranoid with my condition, I became a temporary hermit, living off of Jimmy Johns and fueling my BuffyVerse fandom in the most unhealthy way. Afraid to touch anyone or go anywhere, I spent the next couple of weeks as a metaphoric mite, burrowing deep into sorrow, becoming a bug with unruly, wavy hair and a skirt. Quite possibly a bow, as well.
During this time, I found that some of my peers and friends had also experienced mites, or specifically, scabies. Some of them were embarrassed by this, for the stigma that mites are dirty and gross. UM, YEAH, THEY'RE DISGUSTING. But I am an open person, and was not the least bit embarrassed by my new set of pets. These little bugs were just doin their thang, and I happened to be a a part of that..and then violently killed them with a prescription creme that annihilated them on contact. They're probably in a little mite heaven, with all of the skin they could possibly want.
It was all very dramatic and such, but eventually ended. Less than a week after the incident, I came down with a terrible sinus infection that confined me to my bed, once again. Buffy raged on, as I watched episodes by day and lured myself to sleep with fanfic ideas by night. Read on if you could care less (For example, during the final episode in season 6, what if Oz had come back to comfort and change Willow from the dark magics instead of Xander? But dear Xander does always feel sub-par, and it only seems right that he had his chance to end of the many apocalypses).
When my body had enough, my mind was forced to engage in college finals. Being an English Major, I had a multitude of papers to write, and a few written tests. I spent a couple of weeks on my work, and then boogied on down to Florida for a vacation when the school year ended.
And, well, here we are now. It's summer and I am working as a nanny. I also hope to become a dog-walker, FOR OBVIOUS REASONS. This post was more informative than anything, but hey, perhaps you learned something. I will beat my brain space until I produce more interesting ideas in the future.
Not too shabby for a Monday,
Jordan
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