04.06.04 :: 3:01 pm

I swear to God this shit only happens to me.

At approximately noon today, my skin ERUPTED in FLAMES. Of the rashy variety. Itchy, rashy, red, sad, sad skin.

All over my arms and my stomach and neck.

So I freak right the fuck out and hightail it to the Lenox Hill emergency room, crying.

Turns out, I am not dying. I do not have the HIV. But I am being punished.

I'm allergic to Lexapro. Oh, sweet, sweet savior and friend, I must let you go.

Now, pumped full of steroids, antihistemines and Pepcid (what? I don't know, the doctor told me to!), I ponder the ongoing conflict in my life: having to give up something that you really love, but is really bad for you.

And, as if this episode wasn't enough of a kick in the pants, I now have to schedule an appointment with Dr. M, and with a dermatologist, and buy the prescription meds, and buy the new anti-crazy drugs, and pay for the emergency room visit and OH MY GOD WHY CAN'T WE HAVE FREE HEALTHCARE?

Oh, and the icing on this multi-layered wrong cake that I've been served up, is me standing in the emergency room looking like smacked ass, thinking about Mr. M and how nice it would have been to have someone there with me, and bawling like a big stupid rashy baby.

Dios mio. I'm going to bed at 7 PM tonight, to forget this atrocious excuse of a day.

My rash and I bid you adieu.

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