Cat and Fish and C

As Cat ate up her proudly made tunafish sandwich in the morning, it was show-time. Around noon, the non-stop scratching around the neck started to spread as I walked into the little ladies room. And even worse after my one-hour exercise in the evening. (Now, who in the world would be such an idiot to exercise with toxin in the body?) It served me right with the ultimate embarrassing itch from head to toe that I had to break the dinner with C and return home scratching. I scratched as a cat, only that cats do so to furniture or someone annoying; I did so like there were no tomorrow, and it was a frank joy. Anyways, I called sick to my supervisor and learnt that antihistamine over-the-counter might work in my frustrating situation. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I carried my abused redskin to the pharmacy, and by the way, it felt really nice in the cold air. After picking up the drug, I strolled around, enjoyed the breeze and grabbed some chocalate-coated ice cream cake from the grocery store. It was C's b-day. Since I spent most of the day bashing the toxinated fish with my nails, I thought it would be a good idea to surprise him with sweet treat. So I drove over to his place, and bummer, no parking space. We ended up celebrating his b-day at a spot that says "No Parking." Happy B-day, C!