Callous forming activities make every bit of sense datum coming from my hands feel like cat tongue. Without the purring, or the teeth. There is no benefit from this... besides a reminder to wear g'damn gloves, anyway. The strip of flesh I managed to rub off and am going to be dousing with rubbing alchohol periodically for the next few days is going to manage that reminder just bloody fine. Also, first time I've really felt pain from hitting an wound with the stuff. It's an interesting experience.
Also, Florida. I say it regularly, but yeah. Fuck this state with the rotted tree trunk I threw into a bonfire a little bit ago. Number of times I came within a half minute or so from heatstroke: Three. Been outside... maybe six hours. Maybe five. Inside recuperating, two-three hours. Not a good ratio, but it's better than breaking my half-decade no-heatstroke spree. Before that, it was min one a year since... a long while back. They frakking suck.
Anyway. Yard work. I'm done for the day and clean now and don't feel quite so infested, but not terribly happy. Probably do it again, and I don't begrudge the effort, but being outside when the temp's over 70F is not my idea of a good time.
It wouldn't have been so bad if people had told me it was going to happen and got me up at like, three AM to go do it. But no, I got called in around ten-ish, which... this is fucking Florida. If you have two goddamn brain cells to rub together you don't do shit away from AC for a good three-four hour space centered around noon. Exceptions for when there's no other time slot or you're doing it for someone else, but still.
I will forever wonder why the hell construction and roadwork in this state doesn't start around two hours after sunset and end two or four or so after sunrise. We've got to be losing population to that stupidity.