Dear Cedar, F thee. Love, the Mgmt.

I sit in my supposedly-environmentally controlled computer lab – eyes streaming, nose & sinuses burning – and I wonder just WTF the Universe had in mind when it decided mucous was a fan-tastic idea. I am a step away from jabbing a turpentine-covered baby-bottle brush up my nose just to scratch my brain*. ’cause its itching, too.

Just so that we are all freaking aware of it — Austin sucks major allergen ass. There is something allergic happening every damn day. Mold, cedar, weed, grass, trees (other than cedar) and for all I know, alien fungal spores.

EVERYthing has a longer growth life here. Including Republicans.

*
It feels like there are a billion ants, wearing fuzzy slippers & dusty feather boas doing the cha-cha in my sinus cavities.

8 thoughts on “Dear Cedar, F thee. Love, the Mgmt.

  1. {winces in commiseration}

    Not looking forward to that particular aspect of being back in Austin myself. Can you recommend a good allergist? I suspect I’ll be needing one. Unless he’s moved my allergist from before is on the south side of the city, and we’ll be somewhere northish.

    1. I don’t have an allergist – no insurance. One day, when the gods are kind and I have insurance an allergist will appear. S/he will rip the sinal cavities from my head and trounce them mightily. With a stick.

      And the crowds will rejoice. (yay)

  2. That’s so much more descriptive than *bopping along, bopping along, SUDDEN ICEPICK PRICK UP THE NOSE, ICEPICK ICEPICK ICEPICK, EYES STREAMING, not sneezing*, wash rinse repeat.

  3. I am a step away from jabbing a turpentine-covered baby-bottle brush up my nose just to scratch my brain*. ’cause its itching, too.

    I get those same notions when my throat is itchy; or I have a yeast infection.

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