You Can't Fool This Sheep!

I know that I frequently endow various inanimate objects with stuff like feelings and the ability to exact revenge upon me. Remember back when I told you all about my misbehaving truck and the ungodly amount of money it cost me? But, I like to think that I do it just enough to be considered quirky rather than someone that might make a nice subject for a paper of some sort. There is a line with these sorts of things. You can't go overboard. If you do then you will surely find yourself discussing inkblots and dreams with a "caring professional." That being said...

I think that rash the doctor diagnosed as a "Weird Rash" can hear me.

I'm taking the chance that it can't read. My only hope for sharing my plight with the world is through the printed word. If the weird arm rash has figured out that certain symbols have meaning then it will have isolated me completely. This is how hostages are broken by their captors.

I lived with this stupid rash for a month. It took two visits to convince my doctor that it was "significant." She made a referral to a dermatologist who was unable to see me until August 24th. I made do with the prescription hydrocortisone ointment and hoped that it didn't spread further. Then, miracle of miracles, the dermatologist had an opening for July 19th! Not great...but better than waiting until the end of August! Yay for Sheepie! Tough noogies for Mr. Rash!

Except that it can hear me. It knows what's going on. And it has a strategy. I kid you not. I have been itching like a hound dog for thirty days and counting. I finally make some progress on the Finding-A-Qualified-Rash-Expert front and boom! The rash begins to fade. The itch subsides. It is retreating.

Some might celebrate this turn of events. Not I. I know when I'm being set up. Mr. Rash wants me to cancel my appointment. Then, when I have nowhere to turn for rash eradication, it will rear its ugly head with a vengeance unlike any other seen in rashdom's glorious history. I'm wise to this rash. I won't be fooled. In fact, I may not even sleep for the next few weeks. You know...just so I can keep an eye on it. The rash thinks I'm crazy. Sure. I'm crazy. Crazy like a fox!!!

Why are you backing away like that? I won't hurt you. You're my friends. Come on back! I'm a good person to know. I can talk to rashes and I knit, too! Look:

I'm making a Monkey Sock!

Now, shortly after taking this photo, I discovered an inexplicable hole in the heel. I can't find where the stitch was dropped and all attempts at repair have been for naught. Some people might jump to the conclusion that my sock is out to get me. They might think that it is deliberately misbehaving for some reason, perhaps to distract me from the rash's latest scheme. But I don't think that's the case.

That would just be crazy...

SA