Oozing

Serenaded into somnolence by the soothing sounds of bucolic Westchester — and the head-splitting grind of a 5600KW generator.  This was day three post-Irene with no power so I was distracted only by the screeching of the gas-powered generators that lined my block and the screeching of my children who couldn’t understand why no power also meant no video games and no wifi.  Time to go to school, innocent ones, so you can come back and explain this wifi nonsense to me in a few years.  Also distracted by the irrepressible desire to hack the skin of my arms and legs off with a dull steak knife — yes, the adventure in fence installation resulted in my annual outbreak of poison ivy, which only a 5-day cycle of steroids can abate.  So we packed up the family.  Went to Hershey Park, where I didn’t sleep (thanks, steroids) and instead wandered the halls of the Hotel Hershey at 4 am, gunning for a fight (thanks again, steroids).  I was ready to throw anyone down.  But there wasn’t anyone else.  So I went to the pool and scraped my limbs along the concrete.  Oozing blisters evolved into gaping wounds.  I felt better.  Until I realized that after I invested in my fence installation equipment, I had saved a massive $5.  Co-pay for steroid cycle: $15.  Sh*t.