One of the many things that no one tells you growing up is how the weather not only impacts your mental state, but also your physical one.

No, I’m not talking about doing something stupid, like standing out in the rain with no umbrella or walking the dog on a brisk February morning with no coat on, I’m talking about something that sort of sneaks up on you, but once it hits, it’s devastating.

Dry skin.

Now, I don’t want to come off like some infomercial here, but if you’re anything like me, this time of year reeks absolute havoc on my skin.  Once that warm heat has a chance to push the humidity down in the house to under 20%, my epidermis literally crawls.  Everything (and I do mean everything) itches.  It’s like I’ve been rolling around in a poison ivy patch and there is no Calamine lotion to be had on the entire East Coast.

I dig and scratch my appendages and midsection, tearing open lesions and creating pockmarks all over my torso, upper arms, and legs.  By mid-February, I begin to look like an escapee from a leper colony.

My wife tells me to “moisturize”, but as a guy, that really hasn’t been on my mind for most of my life.  It is; however, good advice.  Hell, I’ll slather on fresh lard or dip into the Crisco can from the kitchen once I get out of the shower if it keeps me from scratching like some flea-bitten hound dog.

Just another reason to look forward to Spring.  I need some humidity in my life, or at least an economy-size bottle of lotion and some band-aids.

Come on, April.  My skin looks forward to your annual rain.