I have always been one of the fortunate ones. People around me have fallen to its power, but I remained untouched. I suppose some would say I got cocky. Others might say I deserved it. Either way, that which I so long mocked has its revenge: I've got poison ivy.
Now think of the worst place it could be. No, not there. The other worst place. Your mouse hand. It's on my wrist, precisely where I normally rest it when I'm mousing or typing. It's also on my index finger, the one I click with. By the time I finish this post, I'll be itching so badly I'll have to soak my arm in hydrocortisone.
So if you haven't seen me commenting much recently, that's why. No longer will I mock the power of the poison. Never again will I defiantly pull weeds bare-handed. I have learned: payback is an itch.
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