The Glove

Real quick here. Some people notice I wear a glove on my right hand. Some people don't. Most people don't ask but if I bring it up I get one of those, "Yeah, I was wondering." It's not some weird, "Hey I want to be like Michael Jackson" thing. Although, it is true that Billie Jean was not my lover. I'm not a huge fan of baseball, I'm not on a softball team, I'm not breaking the glove in for anything I'm doing later. I have a horrible case of psoriasis. It's not on my elbows like most people. It's on my fingers, one of my ankles and both of the bottoms of my feet. To go along with all this goodness, I got one of the rare symptoms that goes with it: arthritis! What kind of lottery from hell is this? During the winter months, when the arthritis is bad, I take a bit of low grade morphine derivatives to make it through. In the summer, the arthritis goes away, and the psoriasis flares up. It's simply lovely. The only thing is, if I get near an ocean, it goes away completely. This makes no sense to anyone, but it's true. For that reason Amber and I will be selling the house next year, packing up our shit, and moving to South Carolina. We will be only making the move with one of the pit bulls because we're moving to a smaller place (condo or apartment) and anytime someone hears we have two pit bulls they usually look at us like we're unholy. Which we are, but not because of the dogs. So back to the glove. Due to the lack of skin on my right index finger, everything I do makes it hurt like... well bad. The glove doesn't stop it, but makes it more bearable without being on an ibuprofen regimen. And there you have it.