Spores

I forget sometimes, what a blessing Cleveland has been in terms of a surcease of suffering–and so does everyone else.

I have severe allergies–all year, usually, though obviously particularly bad in spring and summer. I have them everywhere from Scotland to Japan to San Diego (that was a doozy, one of the things I am allergic to is eucalyptus, to the point of being unable to even stand eucalyptus soap, and they grow all over SD), everywhere except Cleveland, OH.

For the first time since adolescence, I am not debilitated by sneezing and streaming eyes, sinus headaches and drymouth, completely immobilized. Sometimes the other symptoms trigger an asthma attack. This happens quite a lot, usually. Even with medication, which my body adjusts to every couple of years, at least one or two days a week I cannot work or think or do anything but ooze. And the medication makes me drowsy and stupid and also unable to work. It is gross and unpleasant and cuts into my life severely.

Once in awhile I might have to pop a pill if it’s a particularly high pollen day in Cleveland, in the height of hay fever season. All the rest of the year I can breathe, and this is a minor miracle.

So I drove to Virginia this weekend to get the bulkier stuff (books) home, since I am possessed of two large dogs and a not very large Beetle which cannot carry everything in one trip. And I became almost instantly my old self, short of breath and useless and streaming from the eyes and nose. I barely made the drive back in one piece, and once returned, shocked my erstwhile housemates who logically don’t think of me as having allergies at all.

I’m still recovering. Still oozing. Still stupid. I hate this shit, and I had forgotten what a blessing it was to have a clear head most of the time. God dammit. I have things to announce, and things to do, and things to write and proofread, and all I can do is ooze. Arrrgh.

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