It's midnight. She's in a cheap apartment near Toronto. She's itchy. She pauses her typing on a somewhat beat-up old laptop to scratch at her arm idly, trying to hold her current project in her head. She sips a can of Sprite.

She's really itchy... Or not exactly itchy but something in that genre. She shivers all over. Is it cold in here or something? Something's wrong. Her fictional spaceship is forgotten on her laptop as she keeps scratching. Ugh... What the hell? 

"...Poison ivy?"

She doesn't remember stumbling into any plants. Or being sprayed with anything questionable. She feels too cold, and too - airy? She wants to wrap up in a blanket, so she does, pressing and squeezing her arms and legs together. It doesn't really help. It just gets worse instead.

She takes a hot shower instead. That helps... A little bit? Mostly where the water spray hits her. Relief there is - momentary, not really helping at all, but she still stands there, scratching at her legs and chest and shoulders and face even as the water hits against her back.