Poison Ivy, found. On elbow, on stomach, on thigh, on knee. Seriously, what the fuck? My resistance to this crap is so poor that just standing, JUST STANDING, in our yard talking to the guy cutting down the tree, a tree that was being devoured by this heinous soul sucking vine, caused my system to run screaming in fear from the poison ivy dust that has so maliciously befouled my skin.
Now it is creeping along and will not go away. Without drugs, the kind the doctor has to prescribe. Which means an appointment. Can't they take my word for it and just call it in? I know what poison ivy rash looks like. Every year. Somehow, someway. Fucking urushiol oil. It just laughs at the over the counter defenses and spreads some more. When the itch starts up, I get the whole body heebies and am certain, Certain! that it is now everywhere on my body and my skin prickles.
As if that was not enough torment to start my morning, I got a speeding ticket. Caught in a speed trap, like a trout hooked for dinner. This is what happens when my thoughts have been devoured by the creeping crud of poison ivy. I failed to be vigilant approaching the speed trap I pass daily on my way to work.
Think I can get my 4 point offense knocked down to zero if I show them the poison ivy? This stuff can make you loose your mind. Perhaps the prosecutor will accept an insanity plea by reason of urushiol poisoning.
Charges Dropped! This woman can't possibly be held accountable for her actions, tormented as she is with such serious affliction.
Knowing my luck, I'd get a fine for indecent exposure when I presented the evidence.
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