Since I'm only dead to you, I'm saying stay away and let me rest in peace...
... Let me rest in peace. Let me get some sleep. Let me take my love and bury it, in a hole six foot deep.
You know, I'm perfectly fine with being intolerant and allergic. I'm not as fine with being literally plagued by atopic dermatitis and everything it entails, but 24 years in, I'm coping. I've learned to avoid milk and dairy products of bovine provenance. I know not to exceed with chocolate. I constantly drug myself with hystamine suppressors and omega 3 supplements. I don't wear jewelry unless it's gold or silver. I don't wear polyester and a bunch of other fabrics whose names begin with poly, nor do I use whool or feathers. I avoid soap and wash with oil. I could go on all day, the list of loopholes and sidesteps is quite long.
What I'm not fine with is not being able to wear sunglasses unless they're made out of plastic.
What I'm not ok with is having my scalp itching because I wore barrettes and the metal got to me. The two 5 mm wide metal clips on a what has got to be the most popular hair accessory in the entire fucking world touched my skin for a grand total of four hours today, and I'm scratching like I've got lice.
No. I don't have lice. I've checked. It's the fucking dermatitis. It sucks dick like a cheap hustler.
Yes, I'm grumpy. Yes, I'm bitchy. Yes, I'm on my period. Yes, I probably need to get laid. No, it won't happen because it won't happen.
Quote of the day: "I'd like you to take the time to learn the Babylon 5 mantra. Ivanova is always right. I will listen to Ivanova. I will not ignore Ivanova's recommendations. Ivanova is God. And if this ever happens again, Ivanova will personally rip your lungs out. Babylon Control out." Lt. Commander Susan Ivanova.
Going to bed. Good night, sweet dreams.
You know, I'm perfectly fine with being intolerant and allergic. I'm not as fine with being literally plagued by atopic dermatitis and everything it entails, but 24 years in, I'm coping. I've learned to avoid milk and dairy products of bovine provenance. I know not to exceed with chocolate. I constantly drug myself with hystamine suppressors and omega 3 supplements. I don't wear jewelry unless it's gold or silver. I don't wear polyester and a bunch of other fabrics whose names begin with poly, nor do I use whool or feathers. I avoid soap and wash with oil. I could go on all day, the list of loopholes and sidesteps is quite long.
What I'm not fine with is not being able to wear sunglasses unless they're made out of plastic.
What I'm not ok with is having my scalp itching because I wore barrettes and the metal got to me. The two 5 mm wide metal clips on a what has got to be the most popular hair accessory in the entire fucking world touched my skin for a grand total of four hours today, and I'm scratching like I've got lice.
No. I don't have lice. I've checked. It's the fucking dermatitis. It sucks dick like a cheap hustler.
Yes, I'm grumpy. Yes, I'm bitchy. Yes, I'm on my period. Yes, I probably need to get laid. No, it won't happen because it won't happen.
Quote of the day: "I'd like you to take the time to learn the Babylon 5 mantra. Ivanova is always right. I will listen to Ivanova. I will not ignore Ivanova's recommendations. Ivanova is God. And if this ever happens again, Ivanova will personally rip your lungs out. Babylon Control out." Lt. Commander Susan Ivanova.
Going to bed. Good night, sweet dreams.