This is not a whiny emo post about how horrible it is to be allergic to the air I’m trying to breathe.
No, this is an insightful post about carts, horses, chickens, eggs, and biofeedback.
Today I awoke with a runny nose that signaled the beginning of allergy season. I’ve not been dutiful nor diligent in taking my allergy meds (Flonase, Claritin, and the occasional shot of Albuterol) because of late I haven’t needed them. But this morning I dove into them at 7:00am, because I sensed that a full-on allergy attack was impending.
The meds didn’t work fast enough for my liking. My nose ran so fast that it was running what looked to be pure salt water. It tasted like that too, because it ran so fast at times I couldn’t help but get it in my mouth as I struggled to clean the front of my face.
It was 3:00pm before the assorted meds actually DID anything. By that time I’d added Sudafed and some caffeine to the mix. I finally dried up.
I was exhausted, but happy.
I sat down and triaged my email for a couple of hours. It needed doing.
Mid-triage I began to wonder why I was so sad.
When did I get sad? I felt like a good friend just died, and I’d been mourning him for hours.
Oh, yeah. The runny nose.
Physically, the sensation of having had a severely runny nose for eight straight hours felt almost exactly like having bawled my eyes out at a funeral earlier in the day. And since that ACTUALL HAPPENED a couple of weeks back, I seem to be taking emotional cues from my physical state, even though they’re completely unjustified by current events and my state of mind.
On the one hand, this is weird enough and cool enough that I want to write about it. (Done!)
On the other hand, this is extremely frustrating. My dried-out eyes and nose keep tricking me into feeling sad when I’m not. They are inducing a sort of mournful lethargy, and oh, look… the day is now gone. GRRRRR…
So. Allergies make me sad. And that makes me angry. (But part of me can still stand back and be very objectively fascinated by the whole thing.)