You know how people always talk about the funny coincidences in life, that it rains on weekends and is beautiful during the week and such? Man, I am a walking billboard for that these days. My allergies have been on the fritz for the last two weeks. But wait a second, I don’t really have any allergies, not outdoor ones at least. I’m the cat and dust kinda guy, not the pollen type. Yet this year Mother Nature is pulling no punches and subjecting me to whatever form of mucous-filled Hell she can concoct.
Winter was rather lovely for me. No major illness. No serious colds or flus. I even managed to avoid skidding my death trap of a car off the road. But once the weather broke, and offered us the wonderful embrace of sunshine and reasonably warm climes, I quickly became terrified of the particles filling the air. Over the last week I’ve become an expert in various techniques of blowing my nose… don’t worry, I’ll spare you the details.
It all culminated this weekend in enough sinus pressure to nearly explode my head. A wonderful afternoon of Slow Food and good company over at Sandy’s concluded in a haze of clogged passageways and the uncertainty of an infection. Yesterday’s attempt to catch up with Joseph had to be abandoned as I couldn’t even imagine trying to go anywhere but my couch. My head was pounding, my neck was stiff, and my sinuses were stuffed. It’s a miracle that I made it through the day.
And now that Monday has come and I am back at work… well, I’m still blowing my nose a lot, but it’s nothing compared to this weekend. So now that I can tolerate the outdoors again, I am once again shoehorned into my little closet of an office. The joys of irony… or perhaps it’s the joys of Murphy’s Law…