Dear God,
I hate eczema. I hate it with a burning passion. Now, I know it can't be any worse than bubonic plague, or smallpox, or swine flu, or any other epidemic that's been thrown at the human race over the past hella billion years, but having to suffer with this for the rest of my life is not a pleasant thought at all, especially knowing that this is probably not going to be the last time that I'll have to spend days on an end in a filthy environment devoid of any moisturizers, period. But, I suppose I should count my blessings, and come to realize that we are all humble subjects of mother nature, and just as a river washes away all that is beneath it, so, too, will time wash away my these proverbial poxes that ail me so. Until then, there ain't much I can do but man up and deal with it.
God, I wish I were a Druid IRL.
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