Ahem.

Since I am 99% sure that everyone I know is tired of listening to me bitch about the following, I am generously sharing with the internets.

And yes, I am also 99% sure that the only people who read this are the very ones I've already complained to, but on the OFF CHANCE that my whining is reaching new ears...

(sidenote: this makes no sense. I'm blogging about something even I'm tired of hearing about just so I can possibly make random strangers miserable? Hah! Yet note how I am going right ahead with it...)

HIVES!

ITCHY!

and MESS!

and did I mention HIVES!? and MESS?! and oh yes - ITCHY?!

I have hives. My apartment (my part of it, at least) is a disaster zone - I mean, the Department of Health would probably have severe issues with it. Or not that bad, really, but it's a mess. All of my lightbulbs are out, the shower curtain is coming out of the wall, my bathmats are MIA (if anyone out there knows where the fuck they went, please pipe up now) and enough clothing to supply a small boutique (a shabby out of fashion boutique, but a boutique nonetheless) is all over my floor. Combine that with every single piece of paper, mail, or random artifact that's come across my life in the past three years and hell- it's a party!

IF by party, you mean giant albatross around my neck for the past two months. And if that's your idea of party, please stop by this evening, we will be celebrating in style. Shabby, paper covered, clothing strewed style.

What's that you say? Hives are sometimes stress related? How interesting.