Tuesday, July 08, 2008

I need to buy stock in Kleenex

Oy, what a day for allergies! I'm miserable, and I'm running out of Kleenex. Somewhere under this pile of half-used tissues is my nose... I think it came off once when I sneezed for the seventeenth time in a row. My pill bottle of Zyrtec is laughing at me. Even the Benadryl openly mocks my sedated stupor.

I hate allergies. I hate sneezing and blowing my nose until I bleed. I hate the burning eyes and sore throat, the tight chest and headache from sniffling so much. I hate the fact that I can sit at work miserable, capable of thinking and yet incapable of pushing my pens to initial my papers. I hate the constant grogginess. I wouldn't wish this on anyone.

Soon, I'm going to attempt to dance while hopped up on antihistamines (and by "hopped up" I really mean "half asleep"). There is going to be a battle in the end, a great battle between my body and my spirit, a fight to see who can win the rights to my sinuses. Many a great dance partner will be sneezed on. My apologies in advance. Note the white flag that doubles as a tissue... no, wait, reverse that.

God? I surrender. Can you pass the Kleenex?

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