The Itchy & Crabby Show

Yeah, I know that's not the name of that damn show, but it's the name of my damn show right now. Do you know why I am the walking Itchy & Crabby show? I'll tell ya.
I've got the shingles.
Yeah, that's right. The f-ing shingles. Phenomenal.

I woke up early Saturday morning to this stinging pain in my left arm, or rather, on my left arm.

All the way up my left arm, across my shoulder, all over my neck and chest, my chin, my left cheek, all around and all over my lips, inside my mouth, on my tongue, in my throat. And I think there's one in my ear, because it is killing me. And as of this morning, all down my stomach, into my nether regions (yeah, don't even get me started), and currently, I feel it popping up on my thighs. And my scalp. And in my nose.
And...

You get my point.

I am miserable. And it gets worse when I'm out in this 105 degree weather (yeah, I love the summers in Texas, I swear). So all weekend, I stayed in the house until it cooled down. Not fun for my girl, or the dogs. And I'm not crabby overall, just when I can't.stop.itching. which just so happens to be never. And it hurts when I itch it. It stings. It bleeds. It oozes.
Again: fan-fuckin-tastic.

This happened last summer. Except it started on my ankles, and worked it's way up my body. And it last for 2 months. Two steroid shots and 40-odd steroid pills later, and I was still an itchy mess. It's lovely, really. It makes my hubby all warm and excited, let me assure you. He dubbed me the Scabies girl.

This time around, he says I have crabs. Such a funny guy, my hubby.

This happens when I'm under a lot of stress. Or should I say, internal strife? I'm stressing about a lot, but overall, I feel like my stress level is lower than say, 2 years ago? And I didn't have the shingles then, so what the hell?? I just know that I have got to make some changes inside of me, and stop stressing about several things that I cannot control.

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This week is my last week of my 4 week boot camp. I can't miss it. I don't want to miss it. But, at the same time, I know for a fact that my shingles will get 10 times worse when I start sweating tonight. I'm starting to itch more just thinking about it. Fan-fuckin-tastic.
I've already decided that I want to do the next 4 week boot camp as well. 8 weeks of straight hell should make me feel and look healthier, right?

As long as my dear friend stops bringing me lovely fruit tarts, and people stop inviting me to children's birthday parties, complete with the most delicious cupcakes. Oh, and let's not forget the fact that I am totally going to New Orleans at the end of the month, and I am still waiting for someone to convince me that all the beer/wine/tequila drinking I do, coupled with the middle-of-the-night bad food eating, will all be cancelled out by all the ass-shaking I plan on doing on the dance floor.

But I do feel stronger, really. And this morning, I did feel a bit thinner. Then I inhaled. As in, inhaled air, not food. Sigh.

I challenged Lil' Foot's Mom (only because she asked me to-well, not specifically me, but..) to running a mile, and then challenging herself to run that mile better in 4 weeks. I told you guys I ran/walked my mile in 13:32. My goal is to do it in 10 minutes this Thursday, my 4 week mark. So, you see, I can't NOT go to camp this week, just because I have this crap all over my body.
Sigh.