Sniffles

I have perpetual allergies. Sneezing is not a sign of a cold or that something new is in the air. In my world, a sneeze means I'm alive and awake. Every morning, I begin my morning with a clearing of the nose. Much of the rest of my morning rituals are quiet and courteous, but in the blowing of the nose, I let loose. Full force is required to expel the buildup of a night of allergy-induced mucus. Really, where does it all come from? Nasal cavities are not that large.

List of allergies: dust, molds, pollens, weeds, cats, dogs. Seasonal allergies mean nothing to me. My allergies are always in season. Inside, outside, I sneeze. When I finally got a real allergy test, my skin broke out in nasty swells practically everywhere they poked me except in the food grid. I am food allergy free, praise the bumblebees. The doctor joked that I should take to a plastic existence (but I think I'm allergic to latex too).

Worst of all is cats. I'm still stuffed up from my cat encounter tonight. Two sweet kittens, full of love and curiosity, which tortured me mercilessly with their dander. Boo. I try to ignore them and partition thiem from my exixtence to no avail. Their cuteness leaves me cold and runny, reaching for a kleenex.

On the plus side, with such severe allergies, I deal with colds fairly well and often don't even know when I am sick. Strapping lass, sickly to the air.

Achoo.

Note: right side tonight.