Hands of Hate
I love winter, I hate winter.
It's a great time of year, but damned if it doesn't absolutely destroy my skin. Portions of the backs of both of my hands dry out like mad, cheerfully being red and inflamed or dry and white, flaking off and being painful, and occasionally randomly and spontaneously opening up somewhere and bleeding.
It's awesome. And by awesome I mean horrible.
I've managed to stay better on top of it so far this year. But there's a lot of winter ahead of me yet.
