Thank You Hives

I’ve packed up my apartment – and like the millions that have gone before me, I have more stuff than I ever thought possible. Packing is stressful, we can all agreed on that. I started packing about a month ago to preemptively combat the stress levels. Last week, my friend Kyle was sitting on the couch working on his own project, but present all the same so I wouldn’t have to pack alone. Midway through the morning I see red dots slowly appear on my arm. As the day passed, more and more appeared – first my left arm, then my right, and the cherry on top, my left cheek. At first I thought it was just an allergic reaction, but wait…nope…its stress. I was mad at these little red hives for two reasons. One, if you haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing hives – they itch and sting like a mother…and two – they are an external sign to the rest of the world that you don’t have everything under control. If you haven’t met me, I put on a face of impossible independence. I take pride in being able to do things on my own, of being able to handle stressful situations with ease and grace. Hives are the opposit of graceful. Hives shine their little red faces to the world, as if to say “hey world, see this person right here, yeh, she might say she has everything under control, but we know better, everything is falling apart inside this stoic shell.” So thank you, hives, for sharing with the world everything I try so hard to hide.

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