Let the sun burn down on me

I went to the beach Saturday. I went in my brand new four-wheel drive truck. I. Got. Sunburnt.

This is the worst sunburn of my adult life. People who know me know I burn easily. They also know that I know this, and lather up with the sunscreen, and the long-sleeve t-shirts, and the sunglasses, and the hat. People who know me make fun of "the ghost" the "pale kid" they tell me to "turn down the glare," but they also know that this doesn't bother me, that pale is the new tan, and that I don't mind a few taunts because it means I won't be getting skin cancer twenty years from now.

People who know me may also know that sometimes I forget stuff. Like Saturday, when I was going to go put on some sunblock, but then started playing horseshoes. I never make that mistake more than once a summer.

I am sunburnt. I can't lift my arms above shoulder height. Yesterday it hurt to breathe. It hurt to sleep. I couldn't lie down, I couldn't roll, I couldn't close my eyes without hurting. I'm sitting here at work and cringing in pain as I type, two days later, because moving my fingers hurts my back.

My shoulders got it the worst, but I'm burnt from my waist up. Bright red. Instead of turning my head to look at people behind me I'm using my swivel chair to turn completely around.

Only a few people are laughing at me at work, which is nice, and even they are laughing sympathetically. I'm in pain, and everyone can see that. Two of our group took vacation days today, otherwise I would have called in and just stood in my living room, sans shirt, so that I wouldn't even have to feel that irritating cotton fabric on my oh so sensitive skin.

I hate UV rays. My body is radiating heat. You can feel it if you put your hand within half an inch of my skin. I'm like the human torch here.

Bright red is not the new tan.

-tom
recommended downloads:
Fuel, Sunburn
Judas Priest, Diamonds and Rust (Live)
Pearl Jam, Brain of J.