Life's an Itch

I'm itchy... been itchy for a few days now. I have little hives that keep trying to drive me insane. I don't know why or what they're from. Nothing in my diet has changed (although... *ahem*... it should), all household soaps and detergents are the same, no pets with fleas to point the finger at. I'm just itchy. This happens from me from time to time, always with no explicable reason. It's my theory that I was a snake in another life and on occasion I still have the urge to shed my skin.

As annoying (maddening really) as it is, I think it's much like the restlessness that my mind and spirit go through. I think it's just a physical form of restlessness. A longing for... newness. An itch that can't be scratched, so to speak. At first I tried to tune out the itch. I figured if I occupied myself enough I could just ignore it. Itchiness refuses to be ignored.

So, I paid attention to the itchies, trying to determine what was required of me. Sometimes a thing just demands our assiduity whether we like it or not. Short of joining a nudist colony (not bloody likely!) and microwavable meals off of paper plates (ew!), I have to do laundry and wash dishes. Bills need to be paid. People need to be fed. Vehicles require gas and upkeep. Even in art... supplies need to be bought, tools need to be cleaned and pencils sharpened. You get the picture. It can't all be fun all of the time.

Sometimes ya just itch for no good reason (as if there would be a good reason for itching?). Sometimes ya just gotta do what needs to be done.

And sometimes a cool, soothing bath in epsom salts is all that's required.