sick
One of a few things I'm trying to not dwell on.
Here’s the backstory if you’re new here-
or if you’re like my husband who only hears the words that come after steak, beer, bed, free or panties.
I wrote a (steak) novel- actually three, but here- to minimize dwelling potential- we’re only talking about the one my agent read, liked, edited and last week pitched to a bunch of (beer) hot NYC editors.
It’s summer, so of course I have plenty to do to keep me busy (panties) during the waiting period- which I have been told can be three days, four weeks, five months, six years or somewhere short …
Sensitive Guy- at least where skin is concerned.
Instead of enjoying a wonderful yoga session yesterday, I was sitting in a doctor’s office looking at this: One week old POISON IVY . Trust me it was uglier in person.
My son was blessed/cursed with sensitive skin. Certain fabrics give him rashes, he sunburns and freckles in minutes and has permanent tattoos where a pencil poked through his jeans pocket and jabbed him in the leg.
The boy wanted the doctor to be stymied at this ugliness of the poison ivy, he imagined it might be another HOUSE episode, but that only made Dr. George laugh. Those shows are …
