This is my paranoia. No, I’m not in detox for a crack addiction. Not even for a Facebook addiction. This weekend I went out to see my parents who were camping near Carmen, MB at Stephenfield Provincial Park. The place has more Poison Ivy growing than grass. I have never suffered from a Poison Ivy reaction, but I’ve seen my mom with her eyes swollen nearly shut as a result of a casual encounter with the stuff. I’m pretty sure I am one of the lucky ones who just isn’t sensitive to it (I can’t understand why, my skin is rather sensitive otherwise) but I still worry that one of these times I’m going to get it. On Monday night I even dreamed that I developed the red, bumpy rash while at work and I got sent home in case it was contagious.
I think I just need a vacation. I’ve been working myself up into a tizzy worrying about things, even more than usual. I’m not sleeping well. I am actually cursing the short work week because I just don’t have enough time to do what needs doing before Friday.
I’m itching for some time to relax.
There are things in that paper that nobody knows but me, or ever will. Behind that outside pattern the dim shapes get clearer every day. It is always the same shape, only very numerous.
Charlotte Perkins Gilman, The Yellow Wallpaper (1899)
http://www.library.csi.cuny.edu/dept/history/lavender/yellowwallpaper.pdf
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